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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

ChapZ^. Copyright No. 

ShelfXjASr/v 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 





THE TREASURE 
OF NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 


COMPANION VOLUME. 

Winnetou, the Apache Knight. Edited by Marion Ames 
Taggart. i2mo, cloth, 85 cents. 




JACK HILDRETH AMONG THE INDIANS. 


THE TREASURE 

OF NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 




MARION AMES TAGGART. 

U 


► 


2nd COPY, 
1898. 



New York, Cincinnati, Chicago : 
BENZIGER BROTHERS, 

Printers to the Holy Apostolic See, 


1898 


1 * 


tU- 


TWO COPIES RECEIVED. 




oT^\ 

• ^ 


6 


737 




Copyright, 1898, by Benziger Brothers, 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. 

A JOUBNEY AND A MEETING, 

CHAPTER II. 

To Nugget Mountain, 

CHAPTER III. 
On the Murderer’s Track, 


CHAPTER IV. 
Plans Fail on Both Sides, 

CHAPTER V. 


Rescuing Sam, 

CHAPTER VI. 
The Lake of Burning Oil, 

CHAPTER VII. 


The Attack on the Train, 


CHAPTER VIII. 
A Chapter of Surprises, . 


CHAPTER IX. 

Paranoh Comes to Life Again, 


PAGL 

. 7 

. 21 

. 32 

. 47 

. 60 

. 78 

c 92 

. 106 

. 117 


6 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER X. 

PAGE 

A Double Capture and a Double Rescue, . . .127 

CHAPTER XI. 

A Trader in Counterfeits, 139 

CHAPTER XII. 

Santer Again, 150 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Helldorf Settlement 163 

CHAPTER XIV. 

At Echo Ca^on, 176 

CHAPTER XV. 

My Brave Winnetou, 186 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Back to Nugget Mountain, 201 

CHAPTER XVII. 

In the Hands of the Kiotvas, 212 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Retribution, 224 


THE THE A SURE 

OF 

NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 


CHAPTER I. 

A JOURNEY AND A MEETING. 

It is certainly true that no man knows what the 
future holds for him. When I, Jack Hildreth, newly 
graduated from college, won the consent of my uncle 
and second father, whose namesake and heir I was, to 
go West to see life, I little dreamed of the experience 
that lay before me. I had gone as a civil engineer to 
survey for a railroad that was to run through the lands 
of the Apaches, in the mountains of Arizona and New 
Mexico. The greatest chief of all the Apache tribes was 
Intschu-Tschuna, and he and his son Winnetou had de- 
feated the attempted unjust invasion of their rights, had 
slain all my comrades, except the three scouts who ac- 
companied us, and it was only by showing that courage 
and skill which the red man so profoundly admires that 
I succeeded in convincing the Indians that I was trust- 
worthy, and saving myself and the scouts, Sam Hawkins, 
Dick Stone, and Will Parker, from death by torture. 
But once having accepted me, there was no reservation in 
7 


8 


A JOURNEY AND A MEETING. 


their love for me. I had been made a full son of Intschu- 
Tschuna, and a brother of Winnetou by drinking the 
blood of that true knight of the plains, as he had drunk 
mine, and our kinship and brotherhood was not one in 
name merely, but in very truth and deed, for I had come 
to love and admire the high-minded, brave young In- 
dian as I have never before or since loved another 
friend, and his love for me was equally strong. 

A whole winter had passed since the morning in late 
autumn # when the Apaches burst upon us and put an 
end to the work on which we were sent. It had been a 
winter of the greatest interest, passed as it was in closest 
intimacy with Intschu-Tschuna, Winnetou, and his 
beautiful young sister Nscho-Tschi, the Fair Day, who, 
when I first came among the Apaches, and was still 
under sentence of death as a traitor and a thief of their 
lands, had been my gentle nurse through a long and 
dangerous fever. 

Winnetou had not only taught me the Apache tongue, 
but also all that skill in hunt and warfare which has 
been the Indian’s inheritance for countless generations, 
and of which he was a master. Intschu-Tschuna made 
me wise in the lore of his people, and the sweet Fair 
Day showed me that a loving daughter and sister, a 
true-hearted and gentle maiden, was to the red man, as 
to the white, his most precious possession. 

But the pleasantest life must end, the sunniest days 
pass. When the spring came I told Intschu-Tschuna 
that I must go back to my home in the distant East, 
though I would return later to my new and faithful 
friends. The chiefs face grew sad at these tidings, but 
he said: “ Intschu-Tschuna feared that his white son 
would go to the sea in the rising sun, even as the rivers 


A JOURNEY AND A MEETING. Q 

flow toward it when the winter is past. Will you stay 
with those pale-faces who would have built the rail- 
road ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ That is right. You have become a brother of the 
red man, and ought not have any share in further at- 
tempts on his lands and property. But where you wish 
to go you cannot live by the chase as you can here. 
Winnetou has told me that you would have had money 
had we not come upon you and stopped your work, and 
he has asked me to make this up to you. The red men 
know the places where gold is found; they need only 
take it away. Do you wish me to get some for you ? ” 

Others in my place might have said yes eagerly, 
and received — nothing, hut I saw the peculiar keen- 
ness of his eyes as they watched me, and answered, 
“ I thank you. There is no satisfaction in riches that 
a man gets without effort; only that for which he has 
labored and struggled possesses value.” 

His gaze softened; he gave me his hand, and said 
heartily: “ Your words tell me that we are not deceived 
in you. The golden dust for which the white gold 
hunters strive is a deadly dust — it destroys those who 
find it. Never seek it, for it kills not only the body hut 
the soul. I wanted to try you. I would not have given 
you gold, but you shall receive money, the very money 
on which you counted.” 

“ That is not possible.” 

“ It is possible, for I will it so. We will go back to 
where you were working. You shall continue your 
work, and thus receive the reward promised you for 
doing it.” 

I looked at him amazed and speechless. Could he be 


10 


A JOURNEY AND A MEETING. 


jesting ? No; such a thing would he impossible to the 
dignity of an Indian chief. Or was it another test ? 

“ My young white brother says nothing/’ continued 
the chief. “ Is my offer not acceptable to him ? ” 

“ On the contrary, more acceptable than I can say, 
but I cannot believe that you are in earnest.” 

“ Why not ? ” 

“ Am I to understand that I am to complete the work 
for which my white comrades were punished with 
death ? that I am to do that for which you rebuked me 
so sternly when we first met ? ” 

“ You acted then without the permission of the own- 
ers of the land, but now you shall receive this permis- 
sion. The offer is not mine, but Winnetou’s. He says 
it will not harm us if you complete the interrupted 
work.” 

“ That is a mistake. The road will be built; the white 
men will certainly come.” 

He looked gloomily before him, and after a short 
pause said: “ You are right. We cannot prevent our- 
selves being robbed again and yet again. First they 
send a little band, such as yours was, which we could 
overcome. But that counts as nothing, for later they 
will come in crowds, before which we must retreat, or 
be destroyed. But neither can you alter this. Or do 
you mean that they will not come if you do not finish 
your measuring ? ” 

“ No, I do not mean that, for do what we will, the fire 
steed will come through all this region.” 

“ Then accept my offer. It will help you, and can do 
us no harm. I have talked with Winnetou. We will 
ride with you, he and I, and thirty braves, which will 
be enough to protect your labor, and can help you, 


A JOURNEY AND A MEET INC. !! 

Then we will take these braves as far East as is neces- 
sary to find safe paths, and we will go by the steam 
canoe to St. Louis.” 

“ What is my red brother saying ? Do I understand 
him aright ? He will go East ? ” 

“ Yes; I and Winnetou, and Nscho-Tschi.” 

“ Nscho-Tschi also ? ” 

“ My daughter also. She would be glad to see the 
great dwelling places of the pale-faces, and stay among 
them till she has become like a white squaw.” 

I must have looked amazed at this news, for the chief 
added smilingly: “ My young white brother seems to be 
astonished. If he has any objection to our accompany- 
ing him let him say so frankly.” 

“ Any objection ! How could I have any ? On the 
contrary it delights me. Under your protection I should 
be safe, and that alone would be a great deal, but, above 
all, I should still have with me those who are so dear to 
me.” 

“ How,” he assented, quite satisfied. “ Then you 
shall finish your work, and we will go Eastward. Can 
Nscho-Tschi find people with whom she can live, and 
who will teach her ? ” 

“ Yes; I will gladly make that my care. She shall 
go to a house where there are none but good ladies who 
pray to the Great Spirit, and teach the young maidens 
of the pale-faces.” 

“ Good. And when will my young white brother be 
ready ? ” 

“ Whenever it pleases you.” 

“ Then we will go at once. Winnetou has already ar- 
ranged for this, and my young white son need feel no 
care.” 


12 


A JOURNEY AND A MEETING. 


We were to start in two days, yet the peaceful life in 
the pueblo was not disturbed; even Nscho-Tschi served 
us at meal-time as calmly as usual. What a fuss her 
white sisters make over a small excursion, yet this In- 
dian girl, with a long, dangerous ride before her, and all 
the customs of civilization to learn, showed no trace of 
excitement in her manner. 

At last came the morning of the departure. We made 
short work of breakfast, for the ceremony of consulting 
the medicine-man as to the success of the journey was 
to be performed. All the men, women and children of 
the pueblo came out to take part in this ceremony, 
which was not unlike the Greeks consulting the oracle, 
or the Romans reading the auguries. A sort of sanc- 
tuary hung with blankets was prepared for the medi- 
cine-man, and behind this he retired, and a circle of 
Apaches formed around him. Then he began a kind of 
growling and snarling, like dogs and cats beginning a 
fight, the growling occasionally broken by a howl, which 
sank into softer tones. The howl meant that the medi- 
cine-man had seen something bad in the future; the 
softer notes announced something good. After this 
had continued some time, the medicine-man burst forth 
from his improvised temple, and ran round the circle 
shrieking like a madman. This performance was fol- 
lowed by a dance, slow and grotesque, made more so by 
the fact that he wore a horrible mask, and had all sorts 
of curious and ugly objects hung over his body, and the 
dance was accompanied by an intoned song. Both song 
and dance were violent at first, becoming quieter by de- 
grees, till at last the medicine-man seated himself, his 
head between his knees, and remained silent and motion- 
less for a long time. At last he sprang up, and an- 


A JOURNEY AND A MEETING . 


13 


nounced the result of his inquiry. “ Hear, hear, ye sons 
and daughters of the Apaches ! This is what Manitou, 
the great good Spirit has revealed to me. Intschu- 
Tschuna and Winnetou the Apache chiefs, and Old 
Shatterhand, who has become our white chief, will ride 
to the dwelling place of the pale-faces. The good Mani- 
tou will protect them. They will go through many ad- 
ventures without harm, and will come hack to us safely. 
Nscho-Tschi too, who will stay longer among the pale- 
faces, will come hack to us safely, and there is hut one 
of them whom we shall never see again.” 

He paused, and his head was bowed as if to show his 
grief over this last announcement. 

“ Uff, uff, uff,” cried the Indians, curious to hear 
more, yet not daring to ask. But as the medicine-man 
remained bowed down and silent, little Sam Hawkins, 
my true friend and faithful comrade, lost patience and 
cried: “ Who is it that will not return ? Let the man 
of medicine tell us.” 

For a long time there was no reply; then the medi- 
cine man raised his head slowly, looked at me, and said: 
“ It were better not to have asked. But since Sam 
Hawkins, the curious pale-face, has forced me to say it, 
I will tell you it is Old Shatterhand who will never re- 
turn. Death will seize him in a short time. They who 
would come hack safely must not stay near him, for they 
who are near him shall he in danger, and they who are 
at a distance from him shall be safe. How.” 

How Old Shatterhand was the name that had been 
given to me, because of the reputation my strong hands 
had earned in knocking down any one who attacked 
me. Intschu-Tschuna and Winnetou glanced at each 
other as they heard these words. One could not say 


14 


A JOURNEY AND A MEETING . 


whether or not they believed them, hut they knew the 
fatal effect of the words on those men whom they had 
picked out to protect us. If they believed it dangerous 
to be near me the safety of the entire party would be 
imperilled. Intschu-Tschuna took both my hands, and 
speaking very loud so that every one could hear, re- 
minded his people that the medicine-man had some- 
times made mistakes in his prophecies, and that only 
time could show whether he had spoken truly in this 
instance. Scarcely were his last words uttered than 
Sam Hawkins stepped forth and said: “ Ho, we need not 
leave it to time. There is a means by which we can dis- 
cover at once whether the medicine-man has announced 
the truth. Not only the red men, but the white have 
their medicine-men who can read the future, and 
I, Sam Hawkins, am the most renowned among them.” 

“ Uff, uff,” cried the Apaches amazed. 

“ Yes, you wonder at that. Heretofore you have con- 
sidered me an ordinary trapper, because you did not 
know me. But you shall find out that I know more 
than my prayers. Let some of my red brothers dig a 
small, but deep hole in the earth with their toma- 
hawks.” 

“ Would my white brother look into the middle of the 
earth ? ” asked Intschu-Tschuna. 

“ Yes; for the future lies hidden in the bosom of the 
earth and in the stars, and since I cannot read the stars 
in broad daylight, I must turn to the earth for that 
which I wish to know.” 

Some of thp Indians had at once complied with his 
request, and were digging a hole with their toma- 
hawks. 

“ Don’t try any humbug, Sam,” I whispered. "’If 


A JOURNEY AND A MEETING. 1 5 

the Indians see through your nonsense it will make 
matters worse.” 

“ Humbug ! Nonsense ! ” he retorted. “ What are 
the medicine-man’s practices hut humbug and non- 
sense ? What he can and dare do, I can and dare do 
also, my cautious young professor. I know what I’m 
about. If nothing is done to reassure them we shan’t 
he able to do anything with the men who go with 
us.” 

“ I know that, hut I beg you not to do anything ri- 
diculous.” 

“ Oh, it’s solemn, perfectly solemn; don’t you worry.” 

In spite of his assurance I felt considerable anxiety; 
I knew him too well. He was a born joker, and for- 
ever up to some trick, but I had no chance to say more, 
for he walked away to tell the Indians how deep to make 
the hole. When everything was ready, Sam took off 
his old leather hunting-jacket, rolled it up, and set it 
over the hole like a cylinder, where the stiff old coat 
stood up as if made of wood. 

“ Now,” said Sam to his audience, “ the men, women, 
and children of the Apaches shall see what I do, and 
wonder at it. When I have spoken my magic words 
the earth shall open her bosom to me, and I will see 
what is to happen to us during our journey.” With this 
he went back a few paces, approached the hole with 
slow and solemn steps, to my horror repeating the mul- 
tiplication table from the ones up to the nines, but he 
did so too rapidly for the Indians to catch what he said. 
When he got to the end of the table of nines, he broke 
into a gallop, sprang up to the coat with a loud howl, 
waving his arms like a windmill. I looked around to 
see what the Indians thought of this performance, and 


1 6 A JOURNEY AND A MEETING. 

to my great relief saw that they all looked perfectly seri- 
ous; even the two chiefs betrayed no doubt in their 
faces, though I was sure that Intschu-Tschuna knew 
right well what Sam was up to. 

Sam kept his head down in the coat a good five min- 
utes, moving his arms the while as if he saw marvellous 
things. At last he raised his head, showing a face sol- 
emn to the last degree, shook out his coat, and drew it 
on again, saying: “ My red brothers may fill in the hole 
again. While it is open I can say nothing.” This was 
done, and Sam drew a deep breath, as if he felt deeply 
impressed, and said: “ Our red brother has seen wrong, 
for exactly the contrary of what he said is to happen. 
I have seen all that is to come to pass in the coming 
week, hut it is forbidden me to repeat it all. I have 
heard shots, and seen a struggle. The last shot came 
from Old Shatterhand’s bear-killer, and he who fires 
the last shot cannot have died, but must he the victor. 
My red brothers can he safe only by keeping close to 
Old Shatterhand. If they obey their medicine-man 
they are lost. I have spoken. How.” 

The consequences of this prophecy were exactly what 
Sam had anticipated, at least for the time. The Indians 
evidently believed him, and as the medicine-man did not 
come forth to oppose Sam’s statement he was considered 
vanquished, and Sam the true prophet. Winnetou’s 
eyes rested on Sam, who had come chuckling over to 
me, with a silent, hut very expressive look, while his 
father said: “ My white brother is a wise man; he has 
taken the force from the words of our medicine-man, 
and he has a coat full of wise sayings. This precious 
coat will be honored from one big water to the other. 
But Sam Hawkins should not have gone so far. It was 


A JOURNEY AND A MEETING. 1 7 

enough to say that Old Shatterhand would bring us no 
evil; why did he prophesy anything bad P ” 

“ Because I saw it in the hole.” 

Intschu-Tschuna made a gesture dismissing this 
statement, and said : “ Intschu-Tschuna knows the 
truth; Sam Hawkins can be sure of that. It was not 
necessary to make our people anxious by speaking of 
bad things to come. Let us go.” 

The horses were brought, and we mounted, and rode 
slowly away from the pueblo village, Intschu-Tschuna, 
Winnetou, his sister and I ahead, Sam Hawkins, Paiker 
and Stone following, and behind them the thirty braves 
leading the pack horses. Nscho-Tschi sat astride her 
horse like a man. She was a remarkably daring and 
accomplished rider, as I knew already, and as she proved 
anew on this journey, and she could handle weapons 
equally well. Any one meeting us would have taken her 
for the younger brother of Winnetou, the likeness be- 
tween them being heightened by her masculine gar- 
ments; hut they only brought out more clearly her re- 
markable beauty. She was so radiant, so happy, so 
girlish, in spite of the knife and pistol in her belt, and 
the gun across her shoulders that all eyes turned on her 
admiringly — poor, beautiful Fair Day ! 

After five days we reached the spot where we had 
been working when taken prisoners by the Apaches, and 
the rest of the party was cut down in the struggle. Here 
I resumed my work, guarded by the Apache braves, and 
helped by Winnetou and Nscho-Tschi, who scarcely left 
my side. It was very different from the circumstances 
under which I had labored before, with a band of drink- 
ing, unprincipled adventurers for companions. Now I 
was with friends, and I was profoundly touched by the 


1 8 A JOURNEY AND A MEETING. 

generous proof of affection they gave me in allowing me 
to finish a work begun in dishonesty to them, now that 
they were convinced that I had no part in the wrong 
intended them, and that the completion of the work 
would be to my advantage. No brother could have been 
more lovingly watchful of my welfare than my brother, 
the Apache, and his father helped me in every way in 
his power, but it was Nscho-Tschi who anticipated my 
every wish, seeming to read my thoughts, and no desire 
of mine was too trifling for her to take infinite pains 
to gratify. Every day increased the grateful affection 
I felt for her, which I could only show by teaching her 
all that she was *so eager to learn. Dear, bright, 
devoted little sister ! Sweet Fair Day, so soon to 
set ! 

At the end of the eighth day I had finished; the in- 
struments were repacked, and we resumed our journey 
Eastward over the same route I had travelled in coming 
West under the guidance of Sam Hawkins. It was the 
second day after we had set out on our long ride that 
we saw four white men coming toward us. They were 
dressed like cowboys, armed with guns, knives and re- 
volvers. When they had come within twenty feet of us 
they reined up, took their guns in their hands as a pre- 
cautionary measure, and called to us: “ Good day, gen- 
tlemen. Must we keep our fingers on our triggers or 
not ? ” 

“ Good day,” replied Sam. “ Put up your shoot- 
ing irons; we’ve no desire to eat you. May we ask 
where you came from ? ” 

“ From old father Mississippi.” 

“ We’re going the way you came; is it open ? ” 

“ Yes, as far as we know, but any way you needn’t 


A JOURNEY AND A MEETING. 1 9 

fear with a party of your size. Or aren’t the red men 
going all the way ? ” 

u Only this warrior here, with his daughter and son; 
they are Intschu-Tschuna and Winnetou, the Apache 
chiefs.” 

“ You don’t say so ! A red belle going to St. Louis ? 
May we ask your names ? ” 

“ Why not ? We’re not ashamed of them. These 
are my comrades Dick Stone and Will Parker, and this 
is Old Shatterhand, a boy who has stabbed the grizzly 
with his knife, and knocks down the strongest men with 
his fist. I am Sam Hawkins. And you ? ” 

“ I am called Santer,” said the leader, and after a few 
more questions they rode on. 

Then Winnetou said to Sam: “Why has my brother 
told these strangers so much about us ? I do not trust 
the politeness of that pale-face. He was polite only 
because we were eight times as many as they. I am not 
pleased that you should have told them who we were.” 

“ Why ? Do you think it can do any harm ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ In what way ? ” 

“ In many ways. The man who spoke to you has had 
eyes; I must know what he does. My brothers may go 
slowly forward, and I will go hack with Old Shatter- 
hand to follow these pale-faces, and see whether they 
really went on, or only pretended to do so.” 

Accordingly Winnetou and I turned back upon our 
way, and followed the strangers. I confess the man 
Santer had struck me exactly as he had Winnetou. 

“ Does my brother see,” said the young chief when 
we were out of hearing of the others, “ that if these 
men were thieves they would know we had gold with 


20 


A JOURNEY AND A MEETING. 


us ? Sam Hawkins was so imprudent as to say we were 
chiefs on our way to St. Louis, and they need know no 
more. For such a journey gold is necessary, yet if they 
attacked us to-day they would find none, hut to-morrow 
we shall get all that we require, and there was no use in 
bringing more than we could use. To-morrow we will 
go to the place where it is hidden, and bring away 
enough for our journey.” 

“ Is the place where you get gold on our way ? ” 

“ Yes, it is in a mountain called Nugget-tsil, or gold 
mountain, though it has another name in the mouths 
of those who do not know that gold is there.” 

I was amazed to hear this. Think of these men 
knowing where gold was hidden in such quantities, and 
yet living a life of such hardship and danger ! 

By this time we had followed Santer far enough on 
his course to feel sure that he had no intention of turn- 
ing back. We reined up, and watched their retreating 
figures till they looked like flies on the horizon, then 
turned our horses to rejoin our party. 

“ Come,” said Winnetou, “ they intend no evil, and 
we can rest secure.” 

Neither he nor I guessed with what a cunning wretch 
we had to deal, who realizing he would be watched, had 
ridden so far to throw us off our guard. 

We returned to our camp, and the chief, and Nscho- 
Tschi, feeling perfectly secure, little dreaming that the 
strangers in turn were following us, with death in their 
hearts and hands. 


CHAPTER II. 


TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 

That night we encamped beside a spring, which 
flowed fresh and bright from the tender grass it watered, 
and was most acceptable to our tired horses. The spot 
was surrounded by bushes and trees which enabled us 
to have a fire without its being seen at a great distance. 
Two sentinels were stationed by the chief to watch, and 
everything seemed to insure our safety as we sat around 
the fire, sheltered from the cool night wind by the 
bushes. 

It was our custom in the pueblo to sit and talk after 
supper, and we did so to-night. In the course of the 
conversation Intschu-Tschuna said that we should not 
resume our journey in the morning until mid-day, and 
when Sam Hawkins asked why this was he was answered 
with a frankness which I profoundly regretted later : 
“ That should be a secret, but I can trust it to my white 
brothers, if they will promise not to try to know more 
than I tell them.” 

We all gave the promise, and he continued: “We 
need gold, so to-morrow morning early I will go with 
my children to get nuggets, and shall return at mid- 
day.” 

Stone and Parker uttered an exclamation of wonder, 
and Sam, no less amazed, asked: “ Is there gold near 
here ? ” 


21 


22 


TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 


“ Yes/* replied Intschu-Tschuna. “ No one suspects 
it; even my braves do not know it. I learned it from 
my father, who in turn had the secret from his father. 
Such secrets are always handed down from father to 
son, and considered sacred; they are not shared even 
with one’s dearest friends. It is true I have now spoken 
of it, but I would not tell any man the place, nor show 
it to him, and I would shoot down any one who dared 
follow us to discover it.” 

“ Would you kill even us ? ” 

“ Even you. I have trusted you, and if you betrayed 
that trust you would deserve to die. But I know you 
will not leave this spot till we have returned.” 

With this he ended the subject abruptly, and the 
conversation took another turn. Intschu-Tschuna, 
Winnetou, Nscho-Tschi and I sat with our backs toward 
the bushes; Sam, Dick and Will on the opposite side of 
the fire facing us. In the midst of our pleasant talk 
Hawkins suddenly uttered a cry, snatched his gun, and 
fired between us into the thicket. Of course his shot 
alarmed the entire camp. The Indians rushed over to 
us, and we jumped up, demanding of Sam why he had 
fired. 

“ I saw two eyes shining out of the bushes behind 
Intschu-Tschuna,” he declared. Instantly the Indians 
snatched brands from the fire, and rushed into the 
shrubbery. Their search was vain. We quieted down 
at last, and seated ourselves as before. “ Sam Hawkins 
must have been mistaken,” said Intschu-Tschuna. 
“ Such mistakes are easily made in the flickering fire- 
light.” 

“ I don’t see how I could be,” said Sam. “ I felt per- 
fectly sure I saw two eyes' there.” 


TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 


23 

u The wind turned the leaves; my brother saw the 
light side, and took them for eyes.” 

“ That’s possible, and in that case I must have killed 
the leaves.” 

He laughed in his silent way, hut Winnetou did not 
look at the matter in the light of a jest; he said gravely: 
“ In any case my brother Sam has made a great mis- 
take, for which we may pay later.” 

“ A mistake ? How so ? ” 

“ The shot was dangerous for us,” said Winnetou. 
“ Either Sam saw no eyes, and then it was unnecessary, 
and would attract our enemies who might be about, or, 
if he really saw a man, the shot was foolish, for it could 
not hit him possibly.” 

“ Oh, hut Sam Hawkins is sure of his aim; I don’t 
miss my mark.” 

“ I too can shoot, hut in such a case I certainly should 
not have hit. The spy would have seen you take your 
gun, and would move out of your range.” 

Though the others were satisfied with the search that 
had been made Winnetou did not accept it as final. 
Once more he rose, and went out to go over the ground 
again himself, and make sure all was well. He was 
gone over an hour, and when he came back he said: 
“ There is no man there; Sam Hawkins must certainly 
have been mistaken.” 

Nevertheless he doubled the sentinels, bidding them 
be more than usually vigilant, and patrol the circle of 
our camp more frequently. Then we lay down to rest. 
My sleep was not quiet; I waked often, and during my 
naps had brief, turbulent dreams in which Santer and 
his comrades played the chief parts. That was the nat- 
ural consequence of our meeting him, and the alarm 


24 


TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 


of the evening, but I could not shake off the impression 
of dread these dreams left. 

After a breakfast of dried meat, and a porridge of 
meal and water, Intschu-Tschuna with his son and 
daughter started away. Before they went I implored 
them to let me accompany them, at least part of the 
way, and lest they should suspect me of wanting to 
discover the hiding-place of the gold, I told them that I 
could not get rid of the thought of Santer. I wondered 
at myself, for unlikely as it was, I felt that he had come 
back. “ My brother need not be anxious for us,” an- 
swered Winnetou. “ In order to satisfy him I will look 
again at the trail. We know that he does not think of 
the gold, but if he came with us part of the way he 
would suspect where it lay, and he would catch the fever 
for the deadly dust that never leaves a pale-face till soul 
and body are destroyed. We beg him not to go with us, 
not because we distrust him, but because of our love and 
foresight.” 

After this I had to be silent. Winnetou looked again 
for a trace of other feet than ours, discovered nothing, 
and they went away. They were not mounted, so I 
knew the spot where they were going could not be far. 

I lay down in the grass and smoked, and tried to talk 
with my comrades, but I could not rest. At last I 
sprang up, took my gun, and wandered forth, thinking 
I might find some game which would serve for our 
dinner, and help divert my thoughts. Intschu-Tschuna 
had gone southward from the camp, so I went north- 
ward, that he might not think I was searching for the 
forbidden path. After I had walked a quarter of an 
hour I came, to my surprise, on a trail, the fresh foot- 
prints of three persons. They wore moccasins, and I 


TO NUGG&T MOUNTAIN. 


25 


distinguished two large, two medium sized, and two 
little feet — it must be Intschu-Tsehuna, Winnetou, and 
Nscho-Tschi. They had gone southward to mislead 
us, and had then gone due north. Dared I go further ? 
No. It was possible that they saw me, it was certain 
that on their return they would discover my footprints, 
and might think I had followed them secretly. Still 
I could not go back to camp, so I wandered east- 
erly a short distance further. Suddenly I stopped short, 
for I had come upon another trail. Examination 
showed it to he the footprints of men with spurs, and I 
instantly thought of Santer. The trail ran in the di- 
rection where the two chiefs must he, and seemed to 
come from some shrubbery a little further on. I went 
there. I was right; the trail did come from these 
bushes, and there I found tied the four horses which 
had been ridden by Santer and his companions the day 
before. Evidently the wretche^ had hidden here all 
night, and Sam Hawkins had not been mistaken, hut 
had really seen a pair of eyes. We had been spied upon, 
and — Ah, heavens ! What a thought came to me now ! 
What had we been talking of just before Sam fired ? 
Of Intschu-Tsehuna and his children going to-day to 
get the gold. This had been heard, and now, now the 
rascals were following my friends. Winnetou in dan- 
ger ! And Nscho-Tschi and her father ! Instantly I 
riiounted, and rode for life and death on the trail. 
There was no time to go hack and alarm the camp; 
if only I could be in time ! I tried to guess where Die 
hiding-place of the gold might he, in case I lost the 
trail. Winnetou had spoken of a mountain called Nug- 
get-tsil, or Nugget Mountain, so the place was a hill. 
I looked over the scene through which I was flying and 


26 


TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 


north of me, directly in my path, saw a considerable 
elevation crowned by woods. This then must be Nug- 
get Mountain. The old nag under me was not swift 
enough, so as I passed I pulled a branch from a bush 
and belabored him with it. He did his best, and the 
plain disappeared behind me; the hills rose before my 
eyes. The trail led between two of them, and was lost 
in the stones which covered their sides, but I did not 
dismount, for I knew those I sought had gone farther 
into the valley. At last I was forced to get down, and 
try to discover the trail. It was not easy to do, but 
at last I succeeded; it led into the ravine. The horse 
could only hinder me here, so I tied him to a tree, and 
hurried on afoot, impelled by fear to a haste that took 
away my breath. I had to pause a moment for breath 
on a cliff, and saw the trail plunge to the left into the 
woods. I ran under the trees which grew farther apart 
as I advanced, and spied an opening ahead of me. I 
had not quite reached it when I heard several shots. In 
an instant a cry arose that pierced my very flesh like a 
sword — it was the death cry of the Apaches. I not only 
ran, I sprang forward in long leaps like a wild beast. 
Again a shot, then another — that was Winnetou’s rifle. 
Thank God, then he was not dead. I had but one more 
spring to make to be in the clearing, but for an instant 
I stood petrified by what I saw. The light was dim, 
but directly before me lay Intschu-Tschuna and his 
daughter; I could not tell whether they were alive or 
dead. A little way beyond was a small crag behind 
which stood Winnetou reloading his rifle. To my left, 
protected by trees, were two men with guns aimed at 
Winnetou, while a third crept cautiously under the 
trees to get behind him. The fourth lay at my feet., 


TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 


27 


shot through the head. For the moment the young 
chief was in greater danger from the two, than the third. 
I took my bear-killer and shot them both down. Then 
without taking time to re-load I sprang behind the third 
man. He saw me coming, and aimed at me. I leaped 
aside; the shot did not touch me. He saw his game 
was up, and ran into the woods. I rushed after him, 
for it was Santer, and I wanted to capture him. But the 
distance between us was too great; he disappeared in 
the darkness of the thick forest, and I saw him no more. 

I turned back to my poor Winnetou, who needed me. 
I found him kneeling beside his father and his sister, 
anxiously searching for a trace of life. When he saw 
me coming he rose for an instant, and looked at me 
with an expression in his eyes I can never forget, so full 
of pain and wrath were they. “ My brother sees what 
has happened. Nscho-Tsehi, the fairest and best of the 
daughters of the Apaches, will never go to the states of 
the pale-faces. She still breathes, but she will never 
rise again.” 

I could not speak; I could say nothing, ask nothing. 
There was nothing to ask; I saw only too plainly the 
whole wretched truth. They lay in a pool of blood, 
Intschu-Tschuna shot through the head ; Fair Day 
through the breast. He had been killed instantly; she 
still breathed with difficulty, and with a rattling sound, 
while the beautiful bronze of her face grew paler and 
paler. Her soft lips were drawn, and death was stamped 
on the dear features. She moved a little, turned her 
head to where her father lay, and slowly opened her 
eyes. She saw Intschu-Tschuna lying in his blood, and 
shrank at the sight, but was too weak to feel the shock 
keenly. She seemed to gather her thoughts together, 


28 


TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN . 


and remember what had happened, for she pressed her 
little hands against her heart. She felt the warm blood 
flowing from her breast and sighed. “ Nscho-Tschi, 
my dear, my only sister,” moaned Winnetou, with a 
note in his trembling voice no words could convey. She 
raised her eyes to him. “ Winnetou — my — brother,” 
she whispered. “ Avenge — me.” Then she saw me, 
and a glad smile played over her white lips. “ Shat- 
terhand,” she gasped. “ You — are — there. Now — I — 
die — in — ” We heard no more, for death closed her 
lips forever. I felt as though I was suffocating; I must 
have air. I sprang up, for we had knelt down by her, 
and uttered a loud cry which echoed down the side of 
the mountain. Winnetou also rose, slowly, as if a 
heavy weight dragged him down. He threw both arms 
around me, and said: “ Now they are dead; the greatest, 
noblest chief of the Apaches, and Nscho-Tschi, my 
sister, who loved you so. She died with your name on 
her lips. Never, never forget it, my dear brother.” 

“ I will not forget it,” I said hoarsely. 

Then his expression changed, and he said in a voice 
that rang like a trumpet: “ Did you hear her last words 
to me ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Revenge ! She shall be avenged, and as no murder 
was ever avenged before. Do you know who the 
murderers are ? You saw them. Pale-faces, to whom 
we had done no wrong. So it has ever been, so will it 
ever be till the last red man is dead. For if he died a 
natural death, still it would be a murder, for his people 
are slain. We were going to the States of these accursed 
pale-faces. Nscho-Tschi wished to learn to be like the 
white squaws; she has paid for it with her life. 


TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 


29 


Whether we love them, or whether we hate them, it is 
the same. Wherever a pale-face sets his foot, destruc- 
tion to us follows after him. A lament will ring 
through all the tribes of the Apaches, and a cry of 
vengeance will echo in every place where there is a son 
of our nation. The eyes of all the Apaches will be 
turned on Winnetou to see how he will avenge the 
death of his father and sister. My brother, Old Shatter- 
hand, shall hear the promise I make here beside these 
two bodies. I swear by the Great Spirit, and by all my 
brave ancestors in the Happy Hunting Grounds, that 
with the gun which has fallen from my dead father’s 
hand I will shoot down each and every white man I 
meet, or — •” 

“ Stop ! ” I interrupted him, for I knew how binding 
and unalterable this oath would be to him. “ Stop ! 
My brother Winnetou must not swear now, not now.” 

“ Why not ? ” he asked angrily. 

“ An oath must be spoken calmly.” 

“ Uff ! My soul is calm now, as calm as the grave 
in which I shall lay my dear dead. As it will never 
give them back to me, so I will never take back a sylla- 
ble of my oath — •” 

“ Say no more,” I interrupted him again. 

His eyes flashed on me almost threateningly, and he 
cried: “ Will Old Shatterhand hinder me doing my 
duty ? Shall the old wives spit upon me, and shall I be 
driven from my people because I have not the courage 
to avenge to-day’s crime ? ” 

“ It is far from my thoughts to ask this of you. I 
too would have the murderers punished. Three have 
already received their reward; the fourth has fled, but 
he shall not escape us,” 


30 


TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 


“ How can he escape ? ” Winnetou asked. “ But it is 
not a question of him alone. He has acted like a true 
son of that white race which brings us ruin. It is re- 
sponsible for what he has learned, and I will hold it re- 
sponsible, I, Winnetou, now the chief of all the tribes of 
the Apaches.” 

He stood erect and proud before me, a man who, in 
spite of his youth, was the king of his people. Yes, he 
was the man to carry out whatever he undertook. He 
could unite the warriors of all the red nations under 
him, and begin a warfare on the whites which, al- 
though the end was certain, would bathe the West in 
the blood of a hundred thousand victims. 

I took his hand, and said: “ You shall do what you 
will, hut first hear the request I make, which may he the 
last your white friend and brother can ask of you. 
Here lies Nscho-Tschi. You sail that she loved me, 
and died with my name on her lips. And she loved 
you; me as friend, and you as brother, and you returned 
her love richly. By this our love I beg you not to take 
any oath as to what you will do till the stones are sealed 
over the grave of this worthiest daughter of the 
Apaches.” 

He looked at me earnestly, even severely, then his 
eyes fell, and his face softened, till at last he raised his 
eyes again, and said: “My brother, Old Shatterhand, 
has great power over all hearts around him. JSTscho- 
Tschi would certainly do what he asked, and so will I. 
Not until my eyes no longer look upon these two whom 
we loved shall it be decided whether the Mississippi and 
its tributaries shall flow down to the sea red with the 
blood of the red and white races. I have spoken. How.” 

Thank God ! At least for a time I had succeeded 


TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN . 


31 


in averting this great disaster. I pressed his hand grate- 
fully, and said: “ My brother shall see that I will ask 
no mercy from him for the guilty man; he may make 
his punishment as heavy as he deserves. We must take 
care he has no time to escape.” 

“ My feet are bound,” answered Winnetou, once more 
sad and quiet. “ The customs of my people hid me re- 
main with my dead until they are buried, because they 
were so closely related to me. Not until then may I seek 
for revenge.” 

“ And when will they be buried ? ” 

“ I must consult my warriors whether we shall bury 
them here where they died, or take them back to Rio 
Pecos. But even if we lay them here several days must 
pass to celebrate fitly the burial of such a great chief.” 

“ Then the murderer will escape.” 

“ No, for though Winnetou cannot follow him, others 
can take his place. Old Shatterhand shall undertake 
this; he will surely find the trail of the fugitive. He 
shall take ten braves with him; the other twenty war- 
riors he will send here to me to chant the death song.” 

“ It shall be as you say, and I hope to be worthy the 
trust my red brother gives me.” 

“ I know that Old Shatterhand will act exactly as if I 
were in his place. How.” 

He gave me his hand; I pressed it in both of mine, 
bent once more over the faces of the dead, and went: 
away. At the edge of the clearing I turned back. At 
that moment Winnetou covered his head, and uttered 
the dull, wailing note with which the Indians begin 
their death chant. Ah, how sad, how heavy-hearted 
that note of woe made me ! But I had to act, and has- 
tened back by the way I had come. 


CHAPTER III. 


ON THE MURDERER'S TRACK. 

When I left Winnetou I intended to go straight to 
the place where I had found Santer’s horses, but on 
the way I bethought myself of the horse I had ridden 
in coming, and that Santer must have found him, and 
ridden at once from the scene of his crime. This 
thought redoubled my speed; I ran down the moun- 
tain, and with hitter disgust saw that the horse was 
gone, and Santer was already on his way. I plunged 
through the ravine; it was too stony there to see a trail, 
but a little farther on I came to soft earth which I 
examined carefully for a footprint. 

Then I found that I had been entirely deceived. 
Search as I would I could discover nothing; Santer had 
not gone this way. He must have chosen another where 
the rocks betrayed no hoof prints, and the only thing 
for me to do was to hasten back to our camp for assist- 
ance. One person alone might spend hours in a vain 
attempt to discover the exit he had chosen. 

It was a long distance to traverse on foot when one 
was on fire with impatience, grief and rage, hut though 
it seemed to me my feet were shod with lead, in reality 
I was not long getting to our camp. It was past mid- 
day, however, when I came in, and Sam Hawkins called 
out to me as he saw me coming: “ Where have you 
been ? We have eaten, and I — ” 

He stopped suddenly, shocked by the expression of 
32 


ON THE MURDERER'S TRACK. 


33 


my face. “ For the love of heaven,” he cried, “ what is 
the matter ? ” 

Instead of answering, I called the Apaches together, 
and told them as well as I could my terrible news. 

No one spoke or moved; they could not believe me; 
it was too horrible. But when they did realize I had 
spoken the truth, and Intsfchu-Tschuna and Nseho- 
Tsehi were really dead, such a howl arose as could have 
been heard for miles. The Indians ran about like mad- 
men, brandishing their tomahawks, and uttering fierce 
cries, their faces distorted with grief and rage. 

As soon as I could make myself heard, I said: “Let 
the Apache braves be silent. Nothing comes of noise. 
We must hasten after the murderer.” 

“ Yes; away, away, away,” they shrieked, throwing 
themselves on their horses; had they caught Santer then 
he would have been torn to shreds. 

“ Gently,” I said. “ My brothers do not know what 
must be done; let me tell them.” 

They crowded around me till I was nearly suffocated, 
while Sam Hawkins, Stone and Parker stood as if petri- 
fied just where they were when I came back; the 
tragedy seemed to have benumbed them. They stirred 
at last, and joined us, and Sam gasped out: “ I feel as 
though I had been knocked on the head, and could not 
think. The dear, beautiful, good, good young red 
girl ! She was so friendly, so sweet to me ! To think 
she is murdered ! ” 

66 Don’t talk about it, Sam. I don’t dare dwell on 
that side of it. Now all our strength is needed to catch 
that beast. My idea is to divide our force into two par- 
ties, and ride around the mountain. We will meet on 
the further side, and learn whether either division has 


34 


ON THE MURDERER'S TRACK . 


found the trail. I am convinced that one or the other 
must find it, and then we will follow it fast.” 

“ Upon my word the very best way, and the simplest; 
I wonder I didn’t think of it,” cried Sam. 

“ Winnetou has lent me ten Indians to pursue Santer, 
and I’ll take those who are the best mounted, for no 
one knows how long we shall have to follow the wretch, 
and we must take enough provisions. You know the 
region; how long do you think it will take us to ride 
around the mountain ? ” 

“ If we hurry we can do it in a little more than two 
hours.” 

“ Then let us delay no longer.” I picked out my ten 
Apaches, who were glad to be chosen, for they much 
preferred hunting the murderer to singing the death 
song. To the remaining twenty I gave explicit direc- 
tions how to reach Winnetou, and we then parted. 

My ten Indians turned to the left of the mountain 
to encompass it on its western side, while we kept on 
to the east. We spurred our horses, and rode rapidly, 
keeping the hills on our left. Our eyes were glued to 
the ground, for the faster we rode the sharper we must 
watch not to pass the trail. 

Thus we spent an hour, and half of another, and had 
almost finished our half circuit of the hills when we 
spied a dark line running through the grass. It was 
the trail of a single rider — Santer’s. It was not more 
than two hours old, and we longed to follow it at once, 
but had to wait for the Apaches, who came up with us 
in three-quarters of an hour. 

I sent a man back to Winnetou to tell him that we 
had found the trail, and then we rode on at our best 
speed. It was so early in the season that there were 


ON THE MURDERER'S TRACE. 


35 


but two hours before sunset, and we must hasten. We 
must put a long stretch behind us before darkness came 
on, for we could not see the trail during the night. We 
felt sure that Santer would press on in the darkness, 
knowing well we must be following, and to-morrow our 
ride would be a long one. Fortunately, however, both 
horse and man would require rest; Santer could not 
ride forever without stopping. 

Nugget Mountain disappeared behind us, and a flat 
prairie lay before us, in which the trail was easily seen. 
As it grew dark we dismounted, and followed it on foot 
until we could distinguish it no longer. There was 
grass here for the horses, and we lay down for the 
night just as we were. The thought of the death of 
Intschu-Tschuna and his daughter kept my eyes open, 
and when I closed them I saw them lying in their blood, 
and heard again Nscho-Tschi’s dying words. I re- 
proached myself for not showing how fully I appre- 
ciated the love and kindness they had shown me, and 
felt as wretched as if my own hand had slain them. 
It grew cold toward morning, and we were so chilled 
that we started out while it was still gray dawn, and the 
trail was scarcely discernible. Our horses too were 
cold, and needed no other spur to speed. 

We rode east till mid-day, when the trail turned more 
toward the south. Sam Hawkins noticed this, and 
looked thoughtful. “ This fellow is deep,” he said. 
“ I believe he’s gone to the Kiowas.” 

“ He’d never do that ! ” 

“ Why not ? Do you think he’d stand still for love 
of you, and let you have his head ? He’ll do his best 
to save himself. He had his eyes open, and saw our 
horses were better than his, and he’s afraid he can’t 


36 ON THE MURDERER'S TRACK. 

hold out, so he’ll seek the Kiowas’ protection. They’ll 
do anything for him when he tells them he has killed 
Intschu-Tschuna and Nscho-Tschi.” 

It was not long after that we came to the place where 
Santer had rested. We saw that his horse had lain 
down; he was very tired, as the trail had already shown. 
Apparently the rider was worn out too, for the trail 
from this point was not more than two hours old; he 
had probably slept longer than he intended. We were 
a good half hour nearer him than we had been the day 
before. The trail stretched still more to the south, 
and we steadily gained on him; it could not now be 
more than half an hour old. The horizon before us 
was dark; there was no longer open prairie, but woods 
ahead of us. 

Just before evening we were so close to the fugitive 
that we might discover him at any moment, and we 
pressed forward more eagerly than ever. We rode 
through one of the groups of trees that stood on the 
left bank of a little stream. I was ahead, and as I 
passed the last tree I saw that the trail led into the dry 
bed of the brook. I reined up for a moment to tell this 
to the others, which was fortunate for us, for in that 
moment of delay I followed the bed of the little stream 
with my eye, and made a discovery which caused me to 
conceal myself hastily. 

On the opposite bank of the stream there was a second 
piece of woods which was alive with Indians and their 
horses; I could see the stakes in the ground, across 
which they had stretched ropes to dry their meat. Had 
I ridden fifteen feet further they would have seen me. 
I dismounted and pointed out the scene to my compan- 
ions. “ Kiowas ! ” said one of the Apaches. 


ON THE MURDERER'S TRACK. 


37 


“ Yes, Kiowas,” assented Sam. “ The devil must 
love this Santer to have given him this protection at 
the last moment. I actually felt him between my fin- 
gers, but even now he shan’t escape.” 

“ It’s not a strong force of Kiowas,” I said. 

“ H’m. We see only those who are under those trees. 
You don’t know how many more there are. They’re 
hunting, and are drying their meat.” 

I wanted to go back further from the Kiowa camp 
where we would be in less danger of discovery, but 
Sam laughed at me, assuring me we were as safe there 
as if we were in New York. He frequently called me 
rash and foolhardy, but now the roles were reversed, 
and he insisted on a risk I was most unwilling to run. 
He was entirely unlike himself in every way that day; 
the death of the “ dear, beautiful, good young red girl ” 
had made him half insane with rage. In this case, 
though, the Apaches, as well as Stone and Parker 
agreed with him, so I reluctantly gave way to such a 
majority, and we tied our horses, and sat down where 
we were to wait for darkness. The Kiowas evidently 
felt perfectly secure; they rode and walked across the 
open plain, called to one another, and in every way be- 
haved as if they were in their own well-guarded Indian 
village. 

iC You see how unsuspicious they are,” said Sam. 

“ If things are as they seem,” I returned. “ But I 
have a presentiment they are fooling us.” 

“ Presentiment ! Only old women have presenti- 
ments; no one else. What object could they have in 
fooling us ? ” 

“ To draw us on.” 

“ That’s quite unnecessary, for we’ll go on without 


3 « 


ON THE MURDERER'S TRACK. 


drawing. Santer is over there, and has told them the 
whole story. They know of course we’ll follow him, 
but they don’t think we’re as near as we are; they’re 
probably looking for us in the morning. As soon as 
it’s dark I’ll crawl over there and spy on them, and 
then we’ll know what to do.” 

“ Good.- I’ll go too.” 

“ You needn’t. When Sam Hawkins goes spying he 
doesn’t need help,” he said so curtly, and with an irri- 
tation so unlike his usual jolly self that I made no reply, 
understanding that he was not only saddened by the 
death of our friends, hut angry and sore that his own 
imprudent talkativeness on the day we met Santer had 
probably caused all the trouble. I stretched myself out 
as though consenting to Sam’s will, and was silent. 

The sun had been down some time, and now the twi- 
light too faded. The Kiowa fires burned brightly, and 
it was so unlike Indians to thus carelessly announce 
their presence to a possible enemy that this confirmed 
my previous opinion of their game. While I lay think- 
ing this over it seemed to me I heard a rustle behind me, 
where none of our people lay. I listened, and the 
sound was repeated; I heard it plainly, and could dis- 
tinguish exactly what it was — the light movement of 
dried vines rubbing against each other. It might be 
caused by some little animal, but it might be caused by 
a man; I must look into it. I rose, and strolled in the 
opposite direction from whence the sound came. When 
I had gone far enough, I turned and crept around on 
the other side. I heard the noise again; crawled up, 
and saw exactly what I expected to see — an Indian who 
had been hidden there, and was trying to get away noise- 
lessly, but was caught in the blackberry vines. He had 


ON THE MURDERER'S TRACK. 


39 


almost freed himself ; his body was out, except one 
shoulder and arm, and the neck and head. I crept np 
behind his back. He gradually got out all but his arm, 
when I rose to my knees — I had been lying flat — caught 
him around the neck with my left arm, and dealt two 
— three stunning blows on his head which laid him mo- 
tionless. 

“ What was that ? ” said Sam. “ Did you hear any- 
thing ? ” 

“ Old Shatterhand’s horse stamped,” said Dick. 

“ He’s gone; where can he be ? He’ll do something 
foolish,” cried Sam. 

“ Foolish ? Not he. He never was yet, and he 
won’t be now.” I rose, and went softly over to them, 
and said: “ You’re mistaken, dear Sam. I haven’t gone 
away. But if you want proof that I was right about 
the Kiowas, go over to those blackberry vines.” 

He rose, mystified. “ Hallo ! ” he cried. “ Why, 
it’s an Indian. How did this happen ? ” 

“ He was hidden in the blackberry brambles, and I 
discovered him. He was trying to get. out when I 
knocked him senseless. That was what you heard when 
you thought my horse was restless.” 

“ Confound it ! He has been spying. How lucky he 
didn’t get back to his own gang. Bind him, and gag 
him. I’m going over now to spy on them. You stay 
here ! ” 

He started at once, and the Apaches murmured at 
his ordering me so peremptorily, and Stone said: “ Well, 
I really don’t know what’s come over Sam.” 

“ Never mind; he’s all right,” I said. “He’s a good, 
faithful little fellow, but he’s half crazed by the murder, 
and the thought that it was he who gave Santer the fatal 


40 


ON THE MURDERER'S TRACK. 


information. Of course I am going over there, though. 
You stay here till I come back; even if you hear shots 
don’t come unless I call you.” 

I laid my gun down, and started. Sam had gone one 
way; not the best one, I thought, so I took the other, 
intending to creep up on the opposite side. I made my 
way successfully, and found myself under the trees 
where the thick darkness of the wood was increased by 
the contrast of the light of eight fires which the Kiowas 
were burning, although I counted but twenty Indians 
around them. They were evidently intended as decoys 
for us. The Kiowas had their guns in their hands ready 
to shoot at an instant, and woe to us if we had accepted 
their cordial invitation to fall on them. I crept from 
tree to tree, till at last I saw Santer. He was sitting 
with four Indians, and to my delight they were talking 
in perfectly audible tones. I heard Santer holding forth. 
He told them of Nugget Mountain, and urged the In- 
dians to go there with him to get the treasure. “ Does 
my white brother know the place where it is ? ” asked 
the oldest of the four Indians. “ No; we should have 
learned, but the Apaches came back too soon. We 
thought they would be so long that we could spy upon 
them.” 

“ Then is the search nearly hopeless. Ten time$ a 
hundred men could go there, and look carefully, and 
find nothing. The red men know well how to make 
such places undiscoverable. But since my brother has 
killed the greatest of our enemies and his daughter, we 
will go with him later, and help him seek. But first 
we must capture your pursuers, and kill Winnetou.” 

“ Winnetou ! He will be with them.” 

“ No, for he may not leave his dead, and he will keep 


ON THE MURDERER'S TRACK . 


41 


the greater part of his braves with him. He has sent 
the smaller part after you, and they will probably be 
led by Old Shatterhand, the white dog who shot our 
chief, Tangua, in both knees over in the Apache pueblo. 
It is his band that we are now waiting for.” 

“ Then we will ride over to Nugget Mountain, lay 
Winnetou out cold, and get the gold.” 

“ That is not as easy as my brother thinks. Winne- 
tou has to bury his father and sister, and we could not 
kill him before that was done, for the Great Spirit 
would never forgive us. But when they are buried we 
will fall upon him. He will not go to the States of the 
pale-faces now, but will return to Rio Pecos. We will 
lay a trap for him as we have to-day for Old Shatter- 
hand, who is surely over yonder. I only wait for the 
return of the spy I have sent there. It is strange that 
the sentries I have posted over toward them send me 
no tidings yet.” 

I was alarmed as I heard these words; there were 
sentinels then on the outskirts of the woods. Suppose 
Sam Hawkins did not see them, and fell into their 
hands ! Scarcely had this thought come to me than I 
heard a short, sharp cry. The Kiowa leader sprang up, 
and listened, as did all the Indians. Four Kiowas came 
out of the woods bringing a white man, who struggled 
to no purpose, for though he was not bound, four knives 
would have pierced him had he broken away. This 
white man was — my short-sighted Sam Hawkins ! My 
resolution was quickly taken; I would not let him be 
killed, though I risked my life to prevent it. 

“ Sam Hawkins ! ” cried Santer, recognizing him. 
“ Good evening, sir. You did not expect to see me 
here.” 


42 


ON THE MURDERER'S TRACK. 


“ Beast ! thief ! murderer ! ” cried the fearless little 
Sam, springing at his throat as the Indians released 
him. “ I’ve got you now, and you shall have your pay.” 

The murderer defended himself, and the Indians 
pulled Sam off. Confusion reigned for a moment, and 
I made the most of it. Drawing my two revolvers I 
sprang out. “ Old Shatterhand ! ” cried Santer, start- 
ing to run. 

I sent two shots after him, which failed their mark, 
emptied the other barrels among the Indians, and cried 
to Sam: “ Come away; get behind me.” For a moment 
the Indians seemed unable to move. I seized Sam’s 
arm, and drew him into the woods. It was all done so 
quickly that scarcely more than a minute had passed 
since I had jumped out. “ Mercy on us, that was none 
too soon,” said Sam as we passed into the shadow. 

“ Don’t talk; follow me,” I interrupted, letting go his 
arm, and turning up the stream to get as far away as 
possible before attempting to cross, intending to come 
down behind our camp. When I thought we had gone 
far enough to be secure, I paused. “ Sam,” I said, 
softly. N o answer. “ Sam, do you hear me ? ” I asked 
louder. Still no answer. Where could he he ? Had 
he not followed me ? I took cartridges from my belt, re- 
loaded my revolvers, and turned back to seek him. I went 
slowly, step by step, till I reached the spot where I had 
called on him to follow me. He must have disregarded 
my call, and tried to cross where he was; if this were 
so then the firelight must have fallen on him, and he 
had placed himself directly in the range of the Kiowa 
bullets. What carelessness on the part of the little man, 
so obstinate to-day ! I went up the stream again, 
crossed out of sight, and reached our camp, where I 


ON THE MURDERER'S TRACK. 


43 


found everything in good order. My red and white 
comrades pressed around me, thankful to see me safe, 
and I asked at once: “ Where is Sam ? Isn’t he here ? ” 

“ How can you ask ? ” said Stone. “ Didn’t you see 
what happened to him ? ” 

“ What ? ” 

“ Sam appeared right over there, and there was a 
crowd of Kiowas after him. They captured him, and 
were off to the other side, and disappeared under the 
trees before we could get to the spot. We wanted to 
go after them and rescue Sam, hut we remembered 
you had bade us stay here, and obeyed.” 

“ That was wise, for twelve men could do nothing in 
that crowd but he killed.” 

“ But what shall we do ? Sam is a prisoner.” 

“ Yes, and for the second time.” 

I then told them what had happened, and as I con- 
cluded Will Parker said: "It’s no fault of yours. You 
have done more than another would have dared do. 
Sam’s crazy to-day, and has only himself to blame. But 
we can’t leave him there.” 

“No; wait till things quiet down a bit, and then we’ll 
crawl over to see what can be done.” 

Two hours later, having made sure our horses were 
fast, and our prisoner safely bound and gagged, we crept 
over. Will and I, to spy upon our foe. We found the 
fires burning as brightly as before, but not a soul beside 
them — the Kiowas had silently slipped away. The dawn 
showed us their trail leading in the direction of the 
Kiowa village. Stone and Parker were beside themselves 
at the thought that Sam had been taken away to tor- 
ture, but I reminded them that we had a hostage in our 
Kiowa prisoner, and furthermore I felt sure they were 


44 


ON THE MURDERER'S TRACE. 


not bound for their own village, but for Nugget Moun- 
tain, to capture Winnetou as soon as the burial was over. 
There was nothing for us to do but make our best speed 
back to warn him, and we set forth very ill pleased with 
the result of our ride, not having captured Santer, and 
having lost Sam Hawkins. 

It was noon of the second day when we passed 
through the ravine, and found ourselves back on the 
scene of the double murder. We saw at once how busy 
the twenty Apaches whom we left with Winnetou had 
been. They had built the tomb, and the burial was to 
be on the next day. Winnetou was told we had come, 
and came out from beside his dead to greet us. He 
was always grave, and rarely laughed; I never heard him 
laugh aloud, but there was an expression of kindliness 
in his gravity, and his eyes were smiling and friendly. 
But to-day his face seemed turned to stone, and there 
was no light in his eyes. His movements were slow 
and painful as he came toward me, took my hand, and 
looked at me long and earnestly. 

“ When did my brother come back ? ” he asked. 

“ Just now.” 

“ Where is the murderer ? ” 

“ He has escaped.” 

I confess that my eyes fell as I made this answer, and 
I felt ashamed to give it. His eyes too sought the 
ground. After a long pause he asked: “ Did my 
brother lose the trail ? ” 

“No, I have it still. He is coming here.” 

“ Let Old Shatterhand tell me all.” He seated him- 
self on a stone, and I sat beside him to tell him the 
whole unsatisfactory story. 

He listened in silence to the end, and then pressed 


ON THE MURDERER'S TRACK. 


45 


my hand, and said: “ My brother will forgive me ask- 
ing if he had lost the trail. He has done all that could 
he done, and has acted with great wisdom. Sam Haw- 
kins will deeply repent his imprudence; we will forgive 
him, and free him. I think, as my brother does, that 
the Kiowas will come, but they will not: find us unpre- 
pared. To-morrow w r e will seal the tomb over Intschu- 
Tschuna and Yscho-Tschi. Will my brother be there ? ” 

“ I should be deeply grieved if Winnetou would not 
allow me to be there.” 

“ I do not only allow it, but I beg you to be there. 
Your presence may perhaps save the lives of many sons 
of the pale-faces. The law of blood demands the death 
of many white men, but your eyes are like the sun whose 
warmth melts the hard ice, and turns it into running 
water. You know what I have lost; I am alone. Be 
to me father and sister, I pray you, Jack.” Tears stood 
in his eyes; he was ashamed of them, and hastened back 
to his dead. 

We buried the chief and his young daughter on the 
following day. Interesting as were the ceremonies, I 
cannot describe them, for when I think of that sorrow- 
ful hour my heart is as full of pain as if it were yester- 
day. Intschu-Tschuna’s body was bound on his horse, 
which was strapped to the ground so that it could not 
move, and then shot through the head. The earth was 
piled over them until horse and rider, with his medicine 
charms and his weapons, were completely covered, and 
then they were built around with stone, and the tomb 
sealed. 

At my request Nscho-Tschi received another kind of 
grave; I could not bear to have the earth heaped on her 
sweet face and kind hands. We seated her against the 


46 


ON THE MURDERER' S TRACK. 


trunk of a tree, and built a stone pyramid around her, 
from the top of which the green branches of the tree 
waved in the soft southern wind. 


CHAPTER IV. 

PLANS FAIL ON BOTH SIDES. 

Winnetou’s hour of mourning was past. Before, 
and during the burial of the father and sister who were 
so dear to him he gave himself up to the pain of their 
loss, but that over he was no longer the son and brother, 
but the leader of his warriors, the avenger of their mur- 
der, and turned all his attention to the expected coming 
of the Kiowas. He was ready with a plan, and as soon 
as the last stone was placed over his dead he bade the 
Apaches bring the horses from the valley up the moun- 
tain. 

“ Why does my brother give this order ? ” I asked. 
“The way is so hard that it will be a great effort to 
bring the horses up here.” 

“ I know,” he replied, “ but it must be done, because 
I mean to entrap the Kiowas. They have protected the 
murderer, and must all die — all.” 

His face looked so stern and resolute as he said this 
that I knew if his plan succeeded the Kiowas were lost. 
I was inclined to milder counsels; they were our ene- 
mies, of course, but they were not' guilty of the* death of 
Intschu-Tschuna and Kscho- r Pschi. Hared I oppose 
him ? I might draw down his anger* -on myself, but it 
was a favorable opportunity for such a plea because we 
were alone, and no one would be the wiser if he gave 
me an angry answer, while if one of the Indians w'as by 
to hear it I should have to resent it. So I gently gave 
47 


48 


PLANS FAIL ON BOTH SIDES . 


my opinion on the matter, and to my surprise it had 
not the effect I dreaded. He looked at me with great 
gloomy eyes, but said quietly: “ I might have looked for 
this from my brother; he does not consider it a weak- 
ness to spare an enemy.” 

“ I do not mean that; there can be no question of 
sparing them. I have been thinking how to capture 
them. But they are not guilty of the crime committed 
here, and it were unjust to punish them for it.” 

“ They have harbored the murderer, and are coming 
here to capture us. Is not that reason enough that they 
should die ? ” 

“ No; not for me at least. It grieves me to see that 
my brother Winnetou falls into the same mistake that 
all the red men make.” 

“ What mistake does Old Shatterhand mean ? ” 

“ That the Indians destroy one another, instead of 
uniting against the common foe. Let me be frank with 
you. Who do you think is stronger and wiser, the red 
man or the white man ? ” 

“ The pale J face. I say this because it is true. They 
have more knowledge and skill than we, and surpass us 
in every way.” 

“ That is so. We do surpass the Indian, but you are 
not an ordinary Indian. The Great Spirit has given 
you gifts rarely found among the pale-faces, and there- 
fore I would not have you think and act like an ordi- 
nary red man. How often is the war hatchet dug up 
between the tribes ! Your eyes are keener than these 
warriors’ eyes; you must see it is suicide for the red 
men to turn on one another. Intschu-Tschuna and 
Nscho-Tschi were murdered, not by a red man, but by a 
white, and because he fled to the Kiowas, and urged 


PLANS FAIL ON BOTH SIDES. 


49 


them to come here and capture you, you would shoot 
them down like dogs. They are your red brothers; con- 
sider that.” 

I talked in this strain to him for some time, and at 
last Winnetou gave me his hand, saying: “ Old Shatter- 
hand is a sincere friend of all red men. He is right 
when he speaks of suicide. I will do as he wishes; I 
will take the Kiowas prisoners, hut I will spare them, 
and be satisfied to keep Santer in my hands.” 

“ I thank you. My brother Winnetou has a heart 
open to all that is good. Perhaps he will be as merciful 
in another regard.” 

“ What does my brother Old Shatterhand mean ? ” 

“ You would have sworn vengeance on all the white 
race, and I begged you to wait till after the burial. May 
I ask what you have decided upon ? ” 

He dropped his eyes to the ground for a while, then 
looking me full in the face, pointed to the temporary 
hut where the dead had lain, and said: “ I struggled 
with myself all night long there beside my dead. I had 
thought of a tremendous revenge. I would call together 
all the tribes of the red nation, and lead them against 
the pale-faces. I was in a combat, but in this combat 
against myself I was victorious.” 

“ Then you have abandoned this plan ? ” 

“ Yes. I have asked three persons whom I loved, 
two dead and one living, what I should do. They bade 
me give up my plan, and I will do as they bid me.” 

I looked the question I did not ask, and he added : 
“ My brother does not know of whom I speak ? Kleki- 
Petrah, my white teacher who died for me, Nscho-Tschi, 
and you are the ones I mean whom I questioned in 
thought, and they all gave me the same answer.” 


50 


PLANS FAIL ON BOTH SIDES. 


“ I am thankful that my brother Winnetou came to 
this decision. First of all it is right, and then such an 
attack on the whites conld have ended only in mis- 
fortune for you.” 

“I know. The white men are so many that they 
would have sent new forces against us every day, while 
we could not renew our warriors. I thought of all this 
during the night as I sat by my dead, and gave up my 
plan, deciding to be satisfied with wreaking my ven- 
geance on the murderer, and his friends. But now my 
brother, Old Shatterhand, has spoken against this, and 
my vengeance shall only be in. punishing Santer.” 

“ These words make me proud of the friendship that 
unites us. I will not forget what you have done. And 
now we are both sure that the Kiowas are coming but 
we know not when, and even if we did it will be hard 
to overcome a force so much larger than ours.” 

“ They will come to-day,” Winnetou said as positively 
as if he saw them advancing. “ And as to the rest, we 
will get them in a place where they cannot defend them- 
selves.” 

“ That was my own idea, but is there such a place ? ” 

“ Yes, there is a rocky ravine near by; I will trap my 
enemies there. The Kiowas have sent Sam Hawkins to 
their village; they will not bring him here, and those 
who took him back have summoned the warriors from 
the village to attack us. This has delayed them; they 
have not yet reached the foot of the mountain, but they 
will surely be here to-day.” 

“ How do you know they are not yet in the valley ? ” 

Winnetou pointed to the top of the next mountain; 
it was crowned with woods, out of which rose one very 
tall tree. It was the highest point of these hills, and 


PLANS FAIL ON BOTH SIDES. 5 1 

any one who had good eyes and sat in that tree could 
overlook the entire surrounding country. 

“ My brother does not know/’ said Winnetou, “ that 
I sent a brave there who will see the Kiowas coming, 
for he has the eye of a hawk. As soon as they come 
he will warn me. They will be here to-day, for they 
will not dare delay longer, if they wish to take us.” 

“ They did not intend coming to Nugget Mountain, 
but meant to capture us on our way home.” 

“ And they might have succeeded had you not heard 
their plans, but now I know them I will draw the 
Kiowas after me by going in the opposite direction 
from our pueblo.” 

“ If they only follow you ! ” 

“ They will. In any case they must send a spy to dis- 
cover where we are. That is why I had the horses 
brought here. There are thirty-six beasts, and though 
the ground is rocky, they must see their trail, and fol- 
low us. We will go from here into the ravine which is 
to be their trap. We shall not go deep into it, for the 
spy will only follow us far enough to make sure we are 
really there, and then he will go back to tell his chief 
we are not gone southward, but northward. Does my 
brother agree to this ? ” 

“ Yes; it will force them to alter their plans, and we 
can wait, certain that they will come after us here.” 

“ They will; I am sure of it. Santer will be in my 
hands to-day.” 

At this moment the horses were brought up, mine, 
and Sam’s long-eared Nancy, the mule, among the rest. 
We could not mount, for the way was too rough to ride, so 
we each took a bridle, and led the horses up the difficult 
pass. Winnetou went ahead, leading us northward till 


52 


PLANS FAIL ON BOTH SIDES. 


we came to an open plain where we could mount, and 
we rode toward the side of another mountain which rose 
before us like a high, perpendicular wall. It was cleft 
by a small ravine to which Winnetou pointed, saying: 
“ That is the trap of which I spoke.” The word trap 
suited well the narrow opening into which we now 
passed. If the Kiowas were so foolish as to follow us 
here, and we were stationed at the only exit of the 
ravine, it would be utter madness for them to think of 
making any resistance. 

The path did not run straight, but turned from left 
to right, and we were a good quarter of an hour reach- 
ing the exit. There we dismounted and had scarcely 
done so before we saw coming toward us the Apache 
who had been watching for the Kiowas from the high 
tree. 

“ They are coming,” he said. “ I wanted to count 
them, but could not, because they rode single file, and 
were too far away.” 

“ Did they turn toward the valley ? ” asked Win- 
netou. 

“No; they went straight to the place where they 
camped the other night. A single brave came out from 
them on foot, and I saw him go toward the valley.” 

“ That is the spy. We have just time to bait our trap. 
My brother Shatterhand may take Stone and Parker, 
and twelve of my braves, and go around the mountain 
to the left. When he reaches a very strong, tall birch 
tree let him turn into the woods. When he has done 
this my brother will soon find himself in the extension 
of that valley from which we ascended to Nugget 
Mountain. Going on through the valley he will come 
to the place where we left our horses; the rest of the 


PL A A r S FAIL ON BOTH SIDES. 


53 


way he knows. He must not go into the valley, hut 
must stay hidden on its side in the woods. He will ob- 
serve the enemies’ spies, but will not oppose them. 
Then he will see the enemy coming, and let them enter 
the ravine.” 

“ So that is your plan ? ” I said. “ You stay here to 
keep the exit to the ravine, and I go around to wait for 
the Kiowas, then follow them secretly till they are in 
the trap ? ” 

“ Yes, that is my plan, and if my brother is cautious 
it will succeed. But hasten; the afternoon is almost 
over, and the Kiowas will do what they have to do to- 
day.” 

The sun had almost finished its course; the evening 
would be on us in little more than an hour. I started 
at once with the companions Winnetou had appointed 
me, on foot, of course. We reached the birch tree in 
a short quarter of an hour, and turned into the woods. 
We found each landmark as Winnetou had described it, 
and reached the place where we were to halt. The 
Apaches were perfectly silent; Stone and Parker spoke 
together softly at first, but soon their whispering 
ceased. A breeze played over the tree tops with that 
monotonous rustle, wdiich is not a rustle, but an unin- 
terrupted, deep and slow sigh, so easily distinguished 
from all other rustling. And with that I heard another 
sound. I listened more keenly; something moved. 
What was it P An animal would not have ventured so 
near us. A reptile ? No, not that. I turned over 
quickly on the other side where I could see better under 
the trees, and could just distinguish a dark object slip- 
ping away between them. I sprang toward it. It 
looked like a dark shadow before me. I made a grab 


54 


PLANS PAIL ON BOTH SIDES. 


for it, and got a piece of cloth in my hand. “ Get out,” 
cried a startled voice, and the cloth was torn from me, 
the shadow was no more to be seen. My comrades 
sprang up, asking what had happened. “ Be still, be 
still,” I said, and listened. Nothing was to he heard. 
It was a man who had been spying on us, probably 
Santer from the English exclamation. I ground my 
teeth as I thought the villain had been so near. 

“ Sit down, and wait till I come back,” I said to my 
followers, and rushed through the woods. I could see 
no one, hut I would go to the edge of the valley where 
the man must come out to get back to the Kiow^as, and 
seize him. This was a beautiful plan, hut it could not 
he carried out, for as I followed the bend of the valley I 
saw men and horses before me, and had to turn hack 
hastily under the trees, for I had come out right on 
the Kiowa camp. Evidently Santer had ridden ahead 
of the Indians to see if it was safe for them to approach, 
and as he had not returned they had sent the Indian 
spy to discover why. The Kiowas would not fall into 
our hands to-night, or the next day either if Santer 
had been clever enough to discover our plans. What 
was to be done ? Should I wait at my post to see if the 
Kiowas fell into our trap ? Should I go to Winnetou 
and tell him of my discovery ? Or should I try to spy 
on the Kiowas in my turn ? The latter course was very 
dangerous, but it would he of incalculable value to us 
to learn their plans. I risked much, everything, in try- 
ing it, hut I decided to venture. They burned no fire, 
and that fact served me as well as them. Under the 
trees there was a high rock, overgrown with moss, and 
surrounded by ferns; perhaps I could hide behind it. 
Lying flat on the ground I wriggled in that direction. 


PLANS FAIL ON BOTH SIDES. 


55 


It had grown so dark that it was not necessary to seek 
cover; I could be discovered only if one of the Indians 
came that way, and stumbled over me, and luckily this 
did not happen. The Indians talked together in low 
tones, yet I could hear every word, only unfortunately 
I did not understand their dialect. 

I may have lain behind the rock ten minutes when I 
heard the sentinel challenge, and the answer I longed 
for came: “ It is I — Santer.” 

The chief called him over to himself, and he sat down 
where I could almost touch him. 

“ My white brother has been much longer than we 
agreed; he must have had an important reason for this,” 
said the chief. 

“ More important than you imagine,” answered 
Santer. 

I could follow the conversation now, for with Santer 
the Indians spoke the jargon used with the whites. 

“ Let my white brother tell me what he has seen and 
heard.” 

Santer obeyed this request. I listened eagerly while 
he repeated to the Kiowas all the conversation between 
Winnetou and me beside the graves, including the 
smallest details of our plans. The cunning beast had 
been near us then, had spied upon us step by step till 
he knew our very thoughts. As he ended he told the 
Indians that I, with two white men and something over 
ten Apaches, was above in the woods guarding the en- 
trance to the ravine. “ I lay so close behind Old Shat- 
terhand that I could almost touch him,” he concluded. 
“ Wouldn't he be furious if he knew it ?” He was 
right. My hands were cut by my nails as I clenched 
them, longing to throttle him, and not daring to move. 


56 


PLANS FAIL ON BOTH SIDES. 


Truly this man was as cunning and bold as he was 
wicked. Poor Sam was right when he said the devil 
must love him well. If I could have only held him 
when I had him by the coat ! If I had the whole his- 
tory of Winnetou’s life would have been changed, and 
he might have been here now. So man’s fate hangs on 
a brief moment, on a trivial action, but we do not know 
what is best, and the great Ruler of the universe, with- 
out whose consent no little leaf grows green, or fades, 
watches over His children. 

There was one consolation for me; only one. I was 
now spying on Santer as he had spied on us, and the end 
was not yet. If I listened eagerly before, I now strained 
my ears as the question came up as to the best move 
for the Kiowas to make under the circumstances. The 
Indians wished to go back toward their village, feeling 
sure that Winnetou would follow to free Sam Hawkins, 
and capture Santer. This was against the wishes of 
that precious rascal, who was not inclined to take any 
such risks as lurked in this change of plan, although the 
Kiowas so far outnumbered us. He insisted that I and 
my companions must first be attacked and captured, 
and then Winnetou and his Apaches marched on, and 
surprised. He felt sure that he could successfully lead 
the Kiowas on me first, and then on Winnetou in the 
dark. Though he was more than willing that 1 should 
be shot at once, he wanted of all things to capture Win- 
netou alive, since he alone could tell the hiding-place 
of the treasure in the mountain, a secret he purposed 
extracting from the young Apache by torture. The 
leader of the Kiowa band opposed this counsel at first, 
but by strong arguments, and appeal to the probable 
displeasure of his chief if he let slip a chance to attack 


PLANS FAIL ON BOTH SIDES. 57 

us when our force was divided and weakened, Santer 
brought him to his way of thinking. 

I only waited to hear that this would be done at once, 
and slipped away into the woods, for it was high time I 
was off. As soon as I was far enough back to risk it, I 
rose and ran as fast as I could by the starlight glimmer- 
ing through the trees, back to my comrades. 

“ Who comes here ? ” cried Dick Stone. “ Is that 
you. Jack ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ How long you were. Who was hidden there ? An 
Indian, I suppose.” 

“ Ho; Santer ! ” 

“ Santer ! Good heavens ! And we didn’t catch 
him ! ” 

“ We’ve no time to talk; we must get out of here as 
quick as we can. The Kiowas are coming to capture 
us.” 

“ Are you joking ? ” 

“No. I’ve been listening to them. We’re to be 
caught right away, and Winnetou in the morning. They 
know our plan. Hurry up; we’ve got to warn Win- 
netou. Hurry, I say.” 

We went in the darkness through the pathless forest. 
Our eyes had to be in our fingers, for the sense of touch, 
and not sight had to guide us. At last we reached 
Winnetou’s camping place. He had stationed sentinels 
even on the side whence we came, which was not likely 
to be approached. The sentinel challenged us in a loud 
voice, and I answered as loudly. He recognized my 
voice, and sprang up, while Winnetou asked wonder- 
ingly: “ My brother comes ? What has happened ? 
We have waited in vain for the Kiowas.” 


58 


PLANS PAIL on both sides. 


“ They are coming in the morning, not by the ravine, 
but up the side of the mountain to capture you.” 

“ Uff ! This could only be if they knew our plan.” 

“ They do know it.” 

“ Impossible ! ” 

“ Indeed they do. Santer was over there by the 
graves, and heard all you said to me when we were 
alone.” 

I could not see his face, but the profound silence in 
which he received this piece of news showed how 
amazed and angry he was. Then he seated himself, 
and made a place for me beside him, while the Apaches 
crowded around not to lose a word of my story. 

“ If you know this you must have spied on him, as 
he did on us,” said Winnetou, trying to find some con- 
solation. 

“ Certainly.” 

“Then we are quits. Tell us all that has hap- 
pened.” 

My story was interrupted by an occasional “ Uff ” of 
surprise from the Apaches, but Winnetou was silent till 
I had finished, then he said: “ My brother acted pre- 
cisely as I would have done were I in his place. What 
does he advise us now ? ” 

“We must capture Santer, and free Sam Hawkins.” 

“ Yes. Our way from here lies toward the Kiowa 
village, but it need not be the same road the Kiowas 
take.” 

“Does my brother know where Tangua, the Kiowa 
chiefs village lies ? ” 

“ As well as I know where my own pueblo is. It is 
in the Salt Fork of the Red River.” 

“ In a southerly direction from here then ? ” 


PLANS PAIL ON BOTH SIDES. 


59 


“Yes” 

“ Then let ns go northwesterly from here, and come 
down on them from the opposite direction.” 

“ That is precisely what I would do. My brother’s 
thoughts are as mine. It is as my father Intschu- 
Tschuna said when we drank one another’s blood in the 
bond of brotherhood. ‘ Life dwells in the blood. The 
souls of these two young warriors shall be united into a 
single soul. Old Shatterhand’s thoughts shall be the 
thoughts of Winnetou, and what Winnetou wills that 
shall be Old Shatterhand’s will.’ Thus did he speak. 
His eye looked into our hearts, and read our future. 
It will rejoice him in the Happy Hunting Grounds, and 
increase his bliss to see his words fulfilled. How.” 

He was silent, and all who were around him respected 
the tribute he was paying to the memory of his good 
father. 


CHAPTEK Y. 


RESCUING SAM. 

Winnetott threw off the remembrance of his sor- 
row with a sigh, and said to me: “ Will my brother 
come with me to a place where when day breaks we can 
watch the opening of the ravine, and learn whether or 
not the Kiowas leave here ? It may be that not finding 
Old Shatterhand, they will go back to their village, 
without trying to capture us in the morning. It is most 
important for us to watch their movements.” 

“ Is there a place where we can see the mouth of the 
ravine ? ” 

“ I know such a place. Let my brothers take their 
horses by the bridles and follow me.” 

We did as he bade us, and after we had gone some 
hundred feet we came to a great group of trees, behind 
which we made another halt. Here we could camp 
without being discovered if the Kiowas came upon us 
in the night. The ravine lay directly within range, 
and when morning came we could see all that happened 
there. 

The night was as cold as the previous one had been. 
I waited till my horse lay down, then lay myself in the 
hollow of his neck that he might warm me, and the 
beast kept as still as if he had understood the service 
required of him. 


60 


RESCUING SAM. 


6l 


As the gray dawn lifted we scanned the ravine care- 
fully for more than an hour. Nothing was to be seen 
there, so we decided to find out where the Kiowas were. 
I suggested to Winnetou that if we went over to the 
spot from which the Apache spy had discovered them 
yesterday, we must see whether they had gone away or 
not. This suggestion Winnetou approved, and we acted 
on it at once. 

When we reached the southern side of Nugget Moun- 
tain we found two broad, clear trails, one of yesterday 
leading into the valley, and a fresh one leading away 
from it. That the Kiowas were gone there could no 
longer be a doubt. They had carefully made their trail 
unusually plain, hoping that we would follow after 
them, but a scornful little smile played on Winnetou’s 
lips as he looked at it, and he said: “ These Kiowas 
meant to act very wisely, and they have done precisely 
the reverse. Such a trail as this would naturally arouse 
our suspicion, and we should be most foolish if we fol- 
lowed it.” 

As we had already decided, we rode away in the op- 
posite direction, intending to descend on the Kiowa vil- 
lage on the unprotected side. We reached the North 
Fork of the Red River on the next day. The water was 
low, but the banks were green, and afforded much needed 
fodder for our horses. The Salt Fork flows from the 
west into the Red River, south of the North Fork, and 
in the junction of this arm with the main stream lay 
the Kiowa village of which Tangua was chief. We rode 
straight down toward it, travelling in the night to be 
cautious, and early in the morning we saw the river lying 
before us. We were on the wrong side of the stream, and 
Winnetou and I left our people encamped, and rode 


62 


RESCUING SAM. 


down further, looking for a place where we could cross 
with less danger of betraying our camp than if we went 
over directly in front of it, where our trail would lead 
straight to it. This care in concealing our trail cost 
time, but the wisdom of it was proved sooner than we 
expected. 

We had not got back to the river, but were still on 
the prairie, when we saw two riders with fully a dozen 
pack horses coming straight toward us. One rode be- 
fore, the other behind their well-laden beasts, and 
though we could not see their faces, their clothing was 
that of white men. The indications were that they had 
come from the Kiowa village, and we might learn some- 
thing important from them. Therefore I asked Winne- 
tou if we should not speak to them. 

“Yes,” he replied. “But they must not know who 
we are. They are pale-faces; pedlars who have been 
trading with the Kiowas.” 

“ Very well. I am employed by an Indian agency, 
and am bound to the Kiowas on agency business. I do 
not understand their speech, so have taken you along. 
You are a Pawnee Indian.” 

“ That is very good; my brother may speak with these 
two pale-faces.” 

We rode up to them. They raised their guns as is 
customary in the Far West when a stranger appears, and 
thus awaited our coming. 

“ Put down your weapons, friends,” I cried when we 
were within hailing distance. “We won’t eat you.” 

“ It would be well for you not to try; we can bite 
too,” one of them replied. “ You strike us as doubtful 
characters.” 

“ Doubtful ? Why, pray ? ” 


RESCUING SAM. 


63 


“ Well, when two men, one white and the other red, 
wander around the prairies alone they are usually rob- 
bers. And your clothes are rather Indian-like. Nat- 
urally we suspect you.” 

“ Thanks for your frankness. It is always good to 
know how one strikes others. But I assure you, you 
are quite mistaken.” 

“ Possibly. You haven’t a rogue’s face, that’s a fact. 
Perhaps you won’t mind telling us where you come 
from.” 

“Not in the least. We come from beyond Washita, 
and are bound for the Kiowa village where Tangua is 
chief.” 

“ Well, if you take my advice you’ll turn round and 
go back, and not let a Kiowa catch sight of you. This 
Tangua has taken the praiseworthy resolution of kill- 
ing every white man who falls into his hands, and every 
Indian who isn’t a Kiowa. How do you happen to have 
this Indian with you ? ” 

“ Because I don’t understand the Kiowa dialect; he 
is my interpreter, a Pawnee.” 

“ Well, if you both want to be tortured to death, ride 
on, and you’ll get your desire. Tangua has a prisoner 
now waiting that fate, one of Old Shatterhand’s men. 
The Kiowas are going to capture him next, with the 
young Apache chief, Winnetou. This prisoner they’ve 
caught is a queer customer, who laughs all the time, and 
doesn’t act as though death waited him.” 

“ Have you seen him ? ” 

“I saw him when he was brought in, and lay fas- 
tened, on the ground for an hour. Then he was taken 
to the island.” 

“ An island which serves as prison ? ” 


6 4 


RESCUING SAM. 


“ Yes; it lies in the Salt Fork, some feet from the vil- 
lage, and is well guarded.” 

“ Did you speak to this prisoner ? ” 

“ A few words. I asked him if I could do anything 
for him. He smiled at me in a friendly way, and said 
he dearly loved buttermilk, and if I were riding to Cin- 
cinnati he’d be much obliged if I’d bring him a glass. 
He’s an absurd fellow. He won’t be badly treated just 
now, though, for Old Shatterhand has a Kiowa prisoner 
as hostage. Only Santer exerts himself to make his life 
a burden to him.” 

“ Santer ! That’s the name of a white man ! Are 
there other whites among the Kiowas ? ” 

“ Only this one called Santer; a fellow that’s most 
repulsive to me.” 

“ Is he the chief’s guest, or has he a separate tent ? ” 

“ He has one to himself, and not one like the chief’s, 
such as they give a welcome guest, but an old leather 
hut quite at the end of the village. It seems to me he’s 
not in high favor with Tangua either.” 

“ Can’t you describe this Santer’s tent to me ex- 
actly ? ” 

“ What’s the use ? You’ll be sure to see it when you 
get there. It’s the fourth or fifth, counting up the 
stream. I don’t believe you’ll want to see much of him; 
he has a villain’s face; look out for him. In spite of 
your dignity, you’re still very young, and won’t mind 
a bit of advice. Now I must go on. Good-by. I hope 
you’ll get out with a whole skin.” 

“ Thank you. Oh, could you tell me the name of 
this white prisoner ? ” 

“ Sam Hawkins, and he’s a well-known trapper in 
spite of his absurdity. I was sorry not to be able to 


RESCUING SAM. 


65 


help him. Possibly the chief would listen to you more 
favorably than he did to me if you speak a word for 
him.” 

“ Pll try it. Good-by.” 

"We have learned enough,” said Winnetou, as the 
honest fellows rode on. “ We know nearly exactly 
where Sam Hawkins is, and also which is Santer’s tent, 
and we will find them both. We will ride on till these 
traders are out of sight, and then go back to our 
camp.” 

The traders’ forms gradually grew dimmer in the dis- 
tance; they had to ride slowly because their horses were 
so laden. As soon as they had disappeared, we turned 
hack, carefully obliterating our tracks, and reached our 
camp safely. Hick Stone and Will Parker were de- 
lighted at getting tidings of their little Sam; the 
Apaches rejoiced that Santer was waiting them, and 
everybody bestirred himself energetically in breaking 
up our present camp, and following Winnetsu to an 
island where we should be more securely hidden than in 
our present position. 

We made ourselves comfortable in the new quarters, 
and went to sleep, knowing that there would he no rest 
for us in the coming night. When it was dark we were 
wakened to set out for the village. We laid aside all 
but the necessary clothing, and for weapons carried only 
our knives. Then we jumped into the river, and swam 
up stream for an hour, when we came to the place where 
the Salt Fork flows into Red River, and had hut to fol- 
low the former a few feet before we saw the lights of 
the fires in the village, which lay on the left bank. 

A fire burned before each tent, at which the occu- 
pants sat warming themselves, and preparing their sup- 


66 


RESCUING SAM. 


per. The largest tent stood in the middle of the vil- 
lage. Its entrance was adorned with spears and eagle 
feathers. At the fire before this tent .sat Tangua, the 
chief, with a young Indian perhaps eighteen years 
old, and two younger hoys. “ Those are his sons,” said 
Winnetou. “ The oldest is his favorite, and will be a 
brave warrior. His speed is so great that he is called 
Pida, which means The Deer.” 

I looked around for the island. The heavens were 
overcast, and no stars were shining, but the fire enabled 
us to see the islands lying at short distances from one 
another. 

“ There at the further end of the village, in the 
fourth or fifth tent, is Santer,” whispered Winnetou. 
“ We will not keep together. I must go to hunt up the 
dwelling of the murderer of my father and sister, and 
spy on him. You seek Sam, who is your comrade.” 

“ And where shall we meet again ? ” 

“ Here, where we separate, or wait, that may be im- 
possible. If you come through this safely, go back to 
our camp, but by an indirect way, not to betray the di- 
rection of our flight.” 

“ Good ! And if anything goes wrong with you, I 
will come to you.” 

Even as I spoke Winnetou was gone, creeping toward 
the tent where lay the wretch who had done him such 
great wrong. 

I swam up stream under water, and came up to 
breathe at the upper end of the first island. Sam was 
not here, but indications pointed toward his being on 
the second one, the approach to which was going to be 
easier than I had feared. There were a great many 
canoes tied to the shore, and they would afford me a 


RESCUING SAM. 67 

shelter under which I could swim up and see the entire 
island. 

As I lay under one of the canoes, trying in vain to 
get a glimpse of the prisoner and his guard, I heard a 
rustle above me; it was Pida, the “ deer,” coming in a 
canoe. Luckily he landed above me, and presently I 
heard voices; one was my good old Sam’s; the other 
Pida’s. I heard the young Indian say: “ It is my fa- 
thers will.” 

“ Pll never betray it,” Sam replied. 

“ You will suffer ten times more torture then.” 

“ Don’t be absurd. Sam Hawkins tortured ! Your 
father wanted to torture me before, at Bio Pecos, 
among the Apaches. Can you tell me what was the re- 
sult ? ” 

“ The cur, Old Shatterhand, made him a. cripple. But 
you are bound hand and foot, and well guarded; how 
can you escape from here ? ” 

“ That is my affair, dear little hoy. Wait. You 
can’t keep me.” 

“ You shall he free if you will tell us where he was 
going.” 

“ But I never will. The good Santer was so kind as 
to tell me, in order to frighten me, that you had ridden 
to Nugget Mountain to capture Winnetou and Old Shat- 
terhand. That would make a stone laugh. Capture 
Old Shatterhand, my pupil — ha ! ha ! ha ! And now 
that you’ve failed you want me to tell you where they’ve 
gone. You think I must know, and I tell you frankly I 
do know, hut you’ll find out soon enough without my 
telling you, for — •” 

He was interrupted by a loud cry. I could not under- 
stand the words, hut the tone was as though they were 


68 


RESCUING SAM. 


shouting: “ Catch him, catch him,” and I heard Win- 
netou’s name echo. 

“ Do you hear ? ” cried Sam in ecstasy. “ Where 
Winnetou is, Old Shatterhand is also. They’ve come, 
they’ve come ! ” 

The tumult in the village increased; I heard ‘the In- 
dians running. They had seen Winnetou, hut he had 
got away. I saw the chief’s son spring into his canoe, 
and heard him call to the sentinels: “ Take your guns, 
and shoot the prisoner if any one tries to free him.” 

Then he paddled toward the shore. 

I had intended to free Sam at once, but even if I had 
dared attempt it, armed as I was only with a knife, Pi- 
da’s order put all thought of doing so out of the ques- 
tion. But an idea came to me. Pida was the chief’s best- 
beloved son. If I could get him in my hands I could 
demand Sam as ransom. The plan was a wild one, 
but it might succeed. A glance showed that the situa- 
tion was favorable to the attempt. Winnetou had fled 
toward the Red River on the left, misleading his pur- 
suers, for our camp lay toward the right. The cries of 
the Indians arose from that direction, to which the eyes 
of the sentinels also were turned, as they stood with 
their backs to me. Soon they crossed over to the other 
side where they could see better. The chief’s son had 
reached the shore with his canoe, and was about to tie it. 
He stooped over, I crept up behind him; a blow knocked 
him down. I threw him into the canoe, sprang in my- 
self, and paddled as hard as I could against the stream. 

The rash stroke had succeeded ! Ho one in the vil- 
lage had seen me, and Sam’s guards were still staring 
in the opposite direction. I used all my strength to get 
out of the range of the village, lest the firelight should 


RESCUING SAM. 


69 


fall on me and betray me. I paddled to the right shore 
of the Salt Fork, laid the unconscious Pida in the grass, 
cut the rope from the canoe to bind him, gave it a push 
that sent it down the stream where it would not witness 
against me, took my prisoner on my shoulder, and 
started back to our camp. It was not an easy task, for 
not only was my burden heavy, but as Pida came to 
himself he struggled as much as he could to get away. 

“ Who are you ? ” he asked at last in a towering rage. 
“ A miserable pale-face whom Tangua, my father, will 
catch in the morning and kill." 

“ Your father won’t catch me; he can’t walk,” I an- 
swered. 

“ He has countless warriors whom he will send after 
me.” 

“ I laugh at your warriors. It will be with them as 
it was with your father if they dare fight me.” 

“ Uff ! Have you fought my father ? ” 

“ Yes, and he fell when my shot went through both 
his knees.” 

“ Uff, uff ! So you are Old Shatterhand ? ” he asked, 
surprised. 

“Who but Winnetou and Old Shatterhand would 
dare rush into your village and carry off the chief’s 
son ? ” 

“ Uff ! Then I shall die, but you will not hear a 
moan of pain from my lips.” 

“ We will not kill you; we are not murderers, like 
the Kiowas. If your father will give up the two pale- 
faces he has with him, you shall be free.” 

“ Hawkins and Santer ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ He will give them up. His son is more precious to 


70 


RESCUING SAM. 


him than ten times ten Hawkins, and he has no respect 
for Santer.” 

After this Pida made no more resistance. I came at 
last opposite onr island, and dawn was breaking, but the 
mist was too thick to allow me to see. “Hallo !” I cried. 

“ Hallo ! ” answered Winnetou’s voice. “ Is that 
my brother Shatterhand 9 ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Then come; why do yon call ? It is dangerous.” 

“ I have a prisoner; send over a good swimmer and 
a thong.” 

“ I will come myself.” 

In a few moments I saw his head in the water, and 
was thankful to see it, and know that he was safe. 
When he came over to me, and saw my prisoner, he 
said in amazement: “ ITff ! Pida, the chief’s son. Where 
did my brother capture him ? ” 

“ On the river shore, near Hawkins’ island. I should 
have spoken to Sam and freed him, only you were dis- 
covered, so I had to be off .” 

“ It was an unlucky chance. I had reached Santer’s 
tent, when a Kiowa came over to speak to him. As 
they were talking the Indian saw me, and started to- 
ward me. I slipped away, but the firelight fell on me 
and the Kiowa recognized me. I went up, instead of 
down stream to deceive them, swam over and came 
here. And I have not got Santer.” 

“ You shall get him. This young warrior shall be 
exchanged for him and Hawkins, and both he and I are 
sure the chief will agree to this.” 

“ Uff ! That is good, very good. My brother has 
acted most wisely in securing Pida. It was the best 
thing that could have happened.” 


RESCUING SAM. 


71 


We tied our prize between us with his arms fast, hut 
his legs left free to swim, and he was so far from resist- 
ing us that he willingly helped us as we crossed. The 
mist lay so thick over the river that we could not see 
twenty feet before us, but such a fog heightens every 
sound. We were not far from the shore when Winne- 
tou said: “ Hark ! I heard something.” 

“ What ? ” 

“ A sound like a paddle above us.” 

“ Then let us wait.” 

We made such slight movements as were necessary 
to keep us above water, and listened. Yes; Winnetou 
was right; somebody was paddling down the river. 
Should we let him see us ? It might be a spy, but it 
might be something else. It was most important to us 
to see what it was. I looked inquiringly at Winnetou. 
He understood, and said at once: “ I will not go back. 
I must know who this is.” 

We lay still, hoping not to be seen. Pida could have 
betrayed us by a cry, but he did not, for he knew that 
in any case he was safe. 

Now the splash of the paddle was close on us, and 
an Indian canoe cleft the fog. In it sat — who ? As 
Winnetou saw the man he uttered a great cry: “ Santer, 
escaping ! ” My friend, usually so calm, was beside 
himself at the sight of his foe. He tried to free himself 
to swim to the canoe, but was so fast bound to Pida 
that he could not get away. 

“ I must be free. Help me; I must have him,” he 
cried, drawing his knife and cutting the thongs. 

Santer had heard Winnetou’s exclamation; he looked 
over and saw us. “You — ” he began, but stopped, 
took in our situation, threw the paddle in the canoe, 


72 


RESCUING SAM. 


snatched his gun, and cried: “ Your last swim, you 
curs.” 

Fortunately Winnetou had cut himself free from 
Pida at that very moment; he darted forward as Pida 
and I dodged the shot, which fell harmless in the water. 

Winnetou did not swim; he darted forward. He had 
his knife in his teeth, and flew after his enemy with 
long springs. I could only think of the stones I used to 
“ skip ” across the pond when I was a hoy. 

Santer was ready for another shot, and cried scorn- 
fully: “ Come on, you cursed redskin. I’ll send you 
after your father/’ 

But he did not know Winnetou. The latter dove sud- 
denly, intending to come up under the canoe and upset 
it. If he did this Santer’s gun would be no more use to 
him, and there would he a struggle in which the Apache 
would be victor. Santer saw this, laid aside his gun 
quickly, and seized his paddle again. It was time he 
did, for Winnetou came up just where the canoe had 
been a moment before. Santer exerted himself, and 
got out of the reach of his furious enemy, crying: 
“ Have you got me, dog ? I’ll keep my shot for our 
next meeting.” 

Winnetou used all his skill, but no swimmer, if he 
were the world’s champion, could catch a canoe paddled 
down the stream. I called one of the Apaches whom 
the cries and the shot had brought to the shore, to help 
me bring Pida over, and Winnetou almost immediately 
returned. I had never seen him so excited. He said 
to his people: “ Let my brothers get ready quickly. 
Santer has gone down the stream in a canoe, and we 
must go after him.” 

“Yes, we must go this instant,” I agreed. “But 


RESCUING SAM . 73 

what shall we do with Sam Hawkins and our two pris- 
oners ? ” 

“ They will be left to you,” replied Winnetou. 

“ Shall I stay here ? ” 

“ Yes. I must have the murderer of my father and 
sister, but your duty is to free Sam Hawkins. We must 
part.” 

“ For how long ? ” 

He considered a moment, and then said: “I do not 
know. The wishes and will of man depend on the 
Great Spirit. I thought I should be longer with my 
brother Shatterhand, but Manitou has denied this; He 
wills it otherwise.” 

“ I wish that I could go with you to capture Santer, 
but I suppose I must save Sam; I can’t forsake 
him.” 

“ I would never wish you to do anything contrary 
to your duty; you must not. But if the Great Spirit 
wills, we shall meet again one day.” 

“ Where? ” 

“ When you ride from here go to the Bayou Pierre, 
and where the Pierre flows into this river you will find 
one of my warriors in case we can meet.” 

And if I see no warrior ? ” 

" Then I shall still be pursuing Santer, not knowing 
whither he has gone, and cannot tell you where to meet 
me. In that case ride with your three comrades to 
St. Louis, to the pale-faces who would build the road 
for the fire-steed. But I pray you come hack to us as 
soon as the good Manitou allows it. You will ever he 
welcome in the pueblo of Rio Pecos, and if I am not 
there, you will learn where to find me.” 

While he was speaking the horses had been made 


74 


RESCUING SAM . 


ready. He gave his hand to Dick Stone and Will 
Parker in farewell, and then turned to me, saying: “ My 
brother knows how glad our hearts were when we began 
our ride from Rio Pecos. Intschu-Tschuna and Nscho- 
Tschi were with us. When you return you will not 
hear the voice of the fairest of the daughters of the 
Apaches, who, instead of going to the -States of the pale- 
faces, has gone to the land of the departed. Justice now 
calls me from you, hut love will bring you back to us. 
Will you promise to come back to us soon, my dear, dear 
brother Jack ? ” 

“ I promise you. My heart goes with you, my dear 
brother Winnetou.” 

“ Then may the good Manitou guide all your steps 
and protect you in all your ways. How.” 

He put his arms around me and kissed me, gave a 
brief command to his people, mounted his horse and 
was gone. I looked after him till he had disappeared 
in the mist; it seemed to me I had lost a part of my 
very self. 

It was night before I dared attempt the final stroke 
of our venturesome game. Then I crept alone in the 
darkness to the village, as Winnetou and I had done to- 
gether the day before. Again I saw the fire burning, 
before which sat Tangua, with only his two younger 
sons now. His head was sunk, and he stared gloomily 
in the fire. Suddenly he began the deep, monotonous 
death chant; he was mourning the loss of his eldest, 
best-beloved son. Indian fashion I crawled around to 
the other side of the tent, rose up, and stood in full view 
before the chief. “ Why does Tangua sing the lamenta- 
tion ?'” I asked. “ A brave warrior should not wail; 
wailing is for old squaws.” I could not describe how 


RESCUING SAM. 


75 


amazed he was. He tried to speak, hut could not utter 
a word. He stared at me with bulging eyes, and at 
last stammered : “ Old — Old — Shat — Shat — Shatter — 
How came you here ? ” 

“ I have come to speak to you,” I replied. 

“ Old Shatterhand,” I heard echoing from side to 
side beyond the tent, and the two boys ran away. 

The chief rallied, his face took on an expression of 
rage, and he called out a command of which I could 
understand nothing but my name, because he spoke in 
the Kiowa tongue. A moment later a howl of rage 
rang through the entire village; it seemed to me the 
earth shook beneath my feet, as all the warriors who 
had not gone on Winnetou’s trail, which had long be- 
fore been discovered, rushed into the tent with drawn 
knives. I drew my knife and cried in Tangua’s ear: 
“ Shall Pida be killed ? He sent me to you.” 

He heard, in spite of the howling of his people, and 
raised his hand. Silence followed, though the Kiowas 
pressed threateningly around us. If looks of hatred 
could kill, I should have fallen dead. I sat down by 
Tangua, looked quietly in his face, blank with amaze- 
ment at my boldness, and said: “ There is enmity be- 
tween me and Tangua; I am not to blame for it, nor 
do I object. He can see whether I fear him, since I am 
come here to speak to him. We will be brief. Pida 
is in our hands, and will be hanged to a tree if I am 
not back at an appointed time.” 

Ho word, no movement betrayed the effect of my 
words. The eyes of the chief flashed with rage that he 
could not harm me without endangering his son. He 
growled between his teeth: “ How did he get in your 
power ? ” 


;6 


RESCUING SAM. 


“ I was over there by the island last night when he 
spoke to Sam Hawkins, and I captnred him.” 

“ Uff ! Old Shatterhand is beloved by the wicked 
spirit, who protects him. Where is my son ? ” 

“ In a safe place, where yon will not find him; he 
himself shall tell yon where it is later. Yon can see 
from these words that I do not intend to kill him. We 
have another Kiowa prisoner; -he and yonr son shall be 
free if you will give Sam Hawkins for them.” 

“ Uff ! You shall have him. Bring back Pida and 
the other Kiowa brave.” 

“ Bring them ? Well, hardly. I know Tangua, and 
know that I can’t trust him. I give yon two for one, 
and am unusually good and generous to you. So give 
me Hawkins, and send four braves with me to bring 
back Pida and -the other prisoner. In the meantime 
I must see Sam, and learn from his own mouth how he 
has been treated.” 

“ I must first consult my oldest braves. Go to the 
next tent and wait.” 

“ Very well; only make it short, for if I’m not back 
at a certain time Pida will be hanged.” 

To an Indian hanging is the most shameful of deaths, 
so one may fancy how Tangua liked this remark. Nev- 
ertheless, he sent a brave to bring Sam to the tent where 
I waited. The little man sprang to me, holding out his 
fettered hands, and crying jubilantly: “ Hallo, Old 
Shatterhand. I knew you’d come. Do you want your 
old Sam back ? ” 

“ Yes,” I said, “ and the tenderfoot has come to tell 
you you are the greatest master of the art of spying. 
Have they treated you badly ? ” 


RESCUING SAM. 77 

“ Badly ! What is the matter with you ? Every 
Kiowa has loved me like his own baby.” 

“ That’s lucky for them now. The council seems to 
be over.” 

I went hack to Tangua, and found him ready, under 
the pressure -of circumstances, to agree to my proposi- 
tion. Two canoes were made ready, and four armed 
braves accompanied Sam and me to bring back their 
hostages. The Indians were enraged at being obliged 
to let me go with their prisoner, and Tangua said to 
me in parting: “ When I have my son back, I will send 
the whole tribe after you. We will find your trail, and 
catch you, even if you ride through the air.” 

I did not think it necessary to reply to this threat, 
and we departed down the river, a howl following us 
till we were too far away to hear it. We gave up our 
prisoners, who left us without a word of farewell. 

Sam threw up his arms as they were unbound, cry- 
ing: “ Free, free again. It will be a long day before I 
forget you. Jack Hildreth.” 

We waited till we could no longer hear the splash of 
the paddles of the returning canoes, and then mounted, 
and rode down stream, away from the unattractive 
neighborhood of the Kiowa village. 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE LAKE OF BURNING OIL. 

It was a long journey to the meeting-place which 
Winnetou had appointed, and when it was accomplished, 
after many weary days and nights, the hope of finding 
the chief at its end was not realized. But he had been 
able to send us a message about himself and his mission 
by an Apache scout, and that was some comfort. 

Thus far Santer had eluded Winnetou successfully. 
The scoundrel had murdered the two traders whom we 
had met on our way to the Kiowa village, had taken 
their goods, and was now on his way to the northwest 
trading. Winnetou was sure that sooner or later he 
would fall into his hands. This was the message I re- 
ceived from him, with a reminder of my promise to re- 
turn to him soon, and with it came a present of a horse 
that would have made Pegasus preen his wings in jeal- 
ous fear of being considered an inferior animal. He 
was called Swallow, so fleet was he, and during the long 
ride through Louisiana to the point where I took the 
boat for St. Louis, we learned to know and love each* 
other. Sam, Dick and Will left me here, returning to 
the prairie and the wild life which was their choice, 
and I went on alone. 

I stayed in St. Louis only long enough to turn over 
my measurements for the railroad, and to fit myself out 
with some much needed clothing, and a new Henry rifle, 
78 


THE LAKE OF BURNING OIL. 


79 


and then Swallow and I started again for the West in 
search of new adventures, and to rejoin our Apache 
friend. I was to meet him not far from a town called 
New Venango in the Wyoming oil regions. I had rid- 
den all day, and both Swallow and his master were tired, 
and longed for the first glimpse of the little town where 
we were to rest for the night, when the horse raised his 
drooping head suddenly, and sniffed the air in a way 
that showed that strangers were near by. He w T as right. 
At some distance from us I saw two figures, one a man’s, 
the other that of a boy of about fourteen, dressed in full 
trapper regalia; both were mounted. 

As I came up with them the lad waved his riding 
whip, and cried in a fresh, cheery young treble: “ Good 
day, sir. What were you looking for so hard just now? ” 

“ For a town, my bold trapper, and it’s harder to find 
than prairie dogs.” 

“ That’s because the only one about here is over be- 
hind that bluff.” 

“ The only prairie dog ? ” 

“No; the only town. It’s New Venango. Is that 
the one you’re looking for ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Then come along with us. This is the man I’m 
staying with. His name’s Foster, and he keeps the store 
and hotel at New Venango.” 

“ The store; then New Venango can’t be crowded 
with business blocks.” 

“ It’s got enough,” returned the youngster, with 
touchy pride in the youthful city. “New Venango’s 
going to be the biggest city in the West some day.” 

“ I’ve no doubt. There are more embryo ‘ biggest 
cities’ in the West than there are Washington head- 


8o 


THE LAKE OF BURNING OIL. 


quarter houses in the East. However, I’ll be glad to go 
with you to this one, and rest under your friend’s hos- 
pitable roof.” 

Foster growled out some inarticulate reply ; he struck 
me as a villainous-looking piece of humanity, but I liked 
the boy at once, though anything more patronizing and 
self-possessed than his manner would be hard to im- 
agine. 

“ That isn’t a bad horse you’ve got there,” he said, 
looking at Swallow with the eye of a judge of horse 
flesh. “ Is he for sale ? ” 

“ Not at any price. He has taken me through many 
dangers, and I owe him my life more than once.” 

“He has had Indian training,” he said next, to my 
surprise. “ Where did you get him ? ” 

“ From a friend of mine, Winnetou, the Apache 
chief.” 

He looked at me in surprise. “ He’s the greatest In- 
dian in the world. You don’t look — ” He stopped. 

“ Well ? ” I prompted. 

“ Oh, I don’t know; I thought you were a surveyor, 
or naturalist, or something like that. Are you Win- 
netou’s friend, honest ? ” 

“ Honest Injun,” I said laughing. 

“ You’ve good shooting irons too,” continued my 
critical comrade. “ What do you think of this pistol ? ” 

He drew out of his saddle pocket a rusty old affair, 
and holding it up triumphantly said: “ It dates from 
Anno Pocahontas, but it’s all right.” 

He dropped behind me, and in a moment I felt a jar 
of my hat, and saw the sunflower I had picked from the 
golden carpet of the prairie and stuck in my hat-hand 
fall shattered at Swallow’s feet. 


THE LAKE OF BURNING OIL. 8 1 

“ Not so bad,” I said coolly, inwardly wondering 
what to think of the interesting youngster. I looked at 
him as he rode half a horse’s length ahead of me, and 
the setting sun bathed him in its golden light. He was 
“ brown and beautiful ” as the Holy Writ tells us the 
young David was, and his peculiar features had an ex- 
pression of strength, in spite of their youthful softness, 
while every movement spoke of self-reliance and de- 
termination which prevented me treating him as a 
child. 

“ Are you an American ? ” I asked at last. 

“ More American than you are, for my mother was an 
Indian of the tribe of the Mascaleros- Apaches.” 

This explained the sharp-cut features, and the depth 
of his coloring. He said his mother was dead, but that 
his father still lived. I dared ask no more questions, 
though they were not prompted by mere curiosity. I 
wanted very much to know more about the mother, who 
was of the same tribe as Winnetou — my tribe by adop- 
tion. 

“ Do you see that smoke that looks as though it came 
out of the ground ? ” the boy asked, pointing ahead 
with his whip. 

“ Ah, then w r e are at the bluff at last, and that is New 
Venango i*n the hollow ? ” I said. “ Neither Swallow 
nor I is sorry.” 

We paused a moment to look down at the valley, en- 
circled by rocks, in the midst of which flowed a little 
stream, seeking its outlet through .the stone. All the 
ground before us seemed to be covered with contrivances 
for drawing out the oil; close to the stream stood a drill 
in full blast, mid-way in the valley was a refinery, and 
all about were tubs, casks and tanks for the crude oil. 


82 


THE LAKE OF BURNING OIL. 


“Yes, that is the bluff,” said Harry, as his silent 
companion had once called the hoy. “ Over yonder is 
the store, restaurant, hotel and everything in one, and 
this is the way down; it's rather steep. We’ll have to 
dismount.” 

I did so, and Harry added: “ Get your horse by the 
bridle; you must lead him.” 

“ Swallow will come of his own accord,” I replied, 
and we descended to the valley, remounted, and rode 
to the hotel, restaurant, store, notary’s and justice’s 
office, undertaker’s, carpenter’s, to all of which one and 
the same door admitted. 

As we dismounted, this “ concentrated inhabitant,” as 
Mark Twain called a similar worthy, took Swallow by 
the bridle. “ I want to buy this horse,” he said. “ How 
much do you want for him ? ” 

“ He’s not for sale.” 

“ I’ll give you two hundred.” 

I laughed, and shook my head. 

“ Three hundred.” 

“ Don’t bother about price, sir. He’s not for sale,” 
I repeated. 

“ Three hundred, and whatever you want out of the 
store.” 

“ Do you really think I’d sell that horse unless I were 
forced to ? ” 

“ I’ll throw in mine. I must have him; I like him.” 

“ I believe that, hut you can’t have him; you’re too 
poor to buy him.” 

“ Too poor ! ” He gave me a contemptuous look. 
“ I own half these oil wells. I am able to buy a thou- 
sand such horses.” 

“ Maybe you could buy a thousand, but you can’t buy 


THE LAKE OF BURNING OIL. 83 

this one. If you want a horse, go to a dealer, but take 
your hand off mine.” 

“ Look here ! You’re tramping round the country; 
you ought to be glad to get money honestly.” 

“ Keep a civil tongue in your head. If you had to 
deal with most Westerners you’d be paid in powder and 
shot for that remark.” 

“ I’d have you understand, young man, that you 
can’t come any of your prairie business here. I am the 
law in New Venango, and if any one doesn’t do as I 
wish willingly, he does it anyhow. Now shall I have 
the horse or not ? ” 

“ No,” I answered. “ Take your hand away.” 

I reached out for the bridle, he pushed me hack, and 
swung himself into the saddle. “ I’ll show you whether 
I’ll buy a horse or not if I take the notion. There is 
mine; you may have him. Take what you want out of 
the store, and you shall have your money when you 
want it. Come, Harry.” 

He rode on Swallow around the house, and out of 
sight. 

Harry loitered a moment to ask: “ Do you know what 
a coyote is ? ” 

“ Yes,” I replied. “ He’s a frightened beast that runs 
when a dog harks.” 

“ Well, you’re a coyote.” With an indescribable, con- 
temptuous wave of the hand he followed the “ law ” of 
New Venango. 

I took it calmly, for I knew my plans, and that I had 
not lost Swallow. I went into the hotel, not the store; 
that is, I turned to the right instead of to the left in the 
narrow passage, and ate a hearty supper, albeit the cook 
could hardly have served as chef at Helmonico’s. 


S 4 


THE LAKE OF BURNING OIL. 


When the evening was well advanced, and darkness 
had fallen over the valley, I went out to look up Swal- 
low. I knew no stranger could unsaddle him, and put 
him in a stall, so I felt pretty sure I should find him 
supping out of doors. I had learned that Foster lived 
about a quarter of a mile from his concentrated place of 
business. My way was along the river, and I noticed 
• something that I had been too much occupied with my 
young companion to see when I arrived, and this was 
that the oil smoke which filled the entire valley, was 
thicker by the river. The stream must carry with it 
then a considerable quantity of crude oil. There was a 
light on the veranda of the rambling building which 
was Foster’s house, and I concluded that he was enjoy- 
ing his evening pipe in the pleasant warmth of the late 
spring evening. I came up quietly in the shadow. As 
I reached the fence that enclosed the place I heard a 
soft sniffing of the air, and I knew that Swallow was 
in the yard, trying to make sure that his master was 
really coming. 

I vaulted the fence in the friendly shadow of a tree, 
and heard Harry, who lay in a hammock, saying: “ I 
think it’s a queer scheme, Mr. Foster. It won’t work, 
I believe.” 

“ What do you know of such things ? You are a boy. 
The price of oil is so low because the market is glutted. 
If we keep back our oil for a month it will bring up 
prices. I’ll let it flow into the river till the price rises, 
then I’ll set things going again, send my tanks East, 
and make a hundred thousand easy.” 

“ Well, it doesn’t seem square to me,” remarked 
Harry. “ And I wouldn’t do it.” 

Foster was about to explain his plans further, evi- 


THE LAKE OF BURNING OIL. 


85 


dently more to satisfy himself than to inform the hoy, 
when there came a thundering crash as though the 
earth had burst under us. The ground trembled, and 
as I turned in alarm; I saw in the lower part of the val- 
ley where the drill was still at work, a glowing stream of 
tire, fully fifty feet high, shoot up, sink to earth, and 
with the utmost rapidity overflow the low land. At the 
same moment a thick, greasy smoke filled the air, and 
the atmosphere seemed charged with fire. 

I recognized the phenomenon, for I had seen it in all 
its terror in the Kanawha valley, and I sprang out be- 
fore the horror-stricken people who had rushed from 
every door. 

“ Put out the lights,” I shouted. “ Quick, put out 
the lights. The drill has struck oil, and you have 
neglected to forbid lights near it. The gas is escaping, 
and has ignited. Put out the lights, or in two min- 
utes the whole valley will burn.” 

I sprang into the house to turn off the different gas- 
jets, but a lamp burned in an inner room, and I saw 
lights glimmering down by the store. The spurting 
oil which had spread with incredible speed over the 
whole valley had reached the river now, and there was 
only question of escaping with life. 

“ Save yourselves ! ” I cried. “ Fly, fly, in heaven’s 
name. Try for the hills.” 

Without waiting to see the fate of any one I snatched 
Harry up, and the next moment was in the saddle with 
him in my arms. Harry, misunderstanding my action, 
and not knowing the extent of the danger, resisted me 
with all his might, but in such a moment a man pos- 
sesses strength beyond nature, and Harry’s struggles 
died out in the grasp with which I held him. Swallow, 


86 


the lake of burning oil . 


whose instinct made the guidance of bit, and the urging 
of spur superfluous, bore us away like the wind. We 
could not get to the mountain path by which we had 
entered New Venango, for it was submerged in the fiery 
stream. We could only find deliverance down the river, 
but I had not seen anything like a street in that direc- 
tion, and thought, on the contrary, that the cliffs were 
so close together that only the river could get through 
them. 

“ Is there any way out ? ” I cried in anguish. 

"No, no,” Harry gasped, with convulsive efforts to 
get away. “ Let me go, I tell you, let me go. I don’t 
need your help. I can take care of myself.” 

Of course I paid no attention to this, but scanned the 
horizon for a way out. I felt a prick in my throat, and 
the boy cried: “ What do you want with me ? Let me 
go, or I’ll stick your own knife in you.” 

I saw a blade flash in his hand; he had drawn my 
knife. I had no time for a long contest; I caught 
both his wrists in my right hand, while I held him fast 
with my left arm. 

The danger increased with each second. The burn- 
ing stream had reached the refineries, and the tanks 
burst with a cannon-like explosion, and poured their 
contents into the sea of fire, increasing it, and making it 
flow faster every instant. The atmosphere was hot to 
suffocation; I felt as though I were boiling in a tank 
of seething water, and scorched inside. I almost lost 
consciousness, but not quite, for not only was my life 
at stake, but the boy’s. 

“ Come, Swallow; come, good Swal — ” The fearful 
heat burned my mouth; I could no longer speak. But 
it was not necessary; the brave, splendid beast rushed 


THE LAKE OF BURNING OIL. 


S7 


on with, incredible speed. I saw one thing; there was 
no way out on this side the stream. So into the water, 
into the water, over to the other side. A light touch 
on the bridle, a spring of the obedient horse, and the 
waters closed over us. I felt new life, new strength 
pulsing through my veins, but Swallow had disappeared. 
Never mind; only over, over ! 

Swallow had been faster than the fire, but now it 
came, flaming as high as the black heavens, leaping 
down the river, and finding ever new food in the petro- 
leum on its waters. In a moment, in a second, it must 
reach me. The now unconscious boy hung to me with 
a death-like grasp. I swam as never before, or rather 
I did not swim, I leaped through the seething water. 
I felt frightful pain, so frightful that I wondered 
whether it was death. Then came a hot breath at my 
side. Swallow, you blessed, you true horse, is it you ? 
Here is the shore — again in the saddle — I cannot — my 
marrow is withering away — Lord, God help — I can’t 
lie here — once more try ! Ah ! I am up ! Swallow, 
go on, go — where you like, only away, away from this 
lake of hell. We were going, I knew only that; where 
I did not ask. My eyes lay like melted iron in their sock- 
ets, and the light was burning my brain; my tongue 
hung from between my dry lips, my body felt as 
though it were a burning tinder, whose ashes might at 
any moment fall apart. The horse under me panted 
and groaned with almost human agony; he leaped, he 
jumped; he shot over crags, clefts, ledges, peaks, with 
feline, sinuous motions. I had clasped his neck with 
my right arm, while the left still held the boy fast. One 
more spring, one long, frightful spring — at last, at last 


88 


THE LAKE OF BURNING OIL . 


the precipice is crossed, a few feet further and we were 
in the prairie, and Swallow stood still. 

I sank to the ground, overcome by the reaction from 
the long strain of nerve and muscle. I raised myself 
slowly, threw both arms around the neck of the faithful, 
incomparable beast, who was trembling in every limb, 
and kissed him with convulsive sobs, and a fervor be- 
yond words. “ Thank you. Swallow; my blessed, blessed 
Swallow. You have saved me; you have saved us both. 
Fll never forget this hour.” 

The heavens glowed blood red, and the vapors from 
the freed elements hung in thick black masses, streaked 
with purple, over the ruined hearths. But I had no 
time to look at this, for Harry lay before me, white, 
cold, and stiff, the knife still clasped in his hand. I 
thought him dead, that he had drowned in the river 
when I would rescue him from the flames. His cloth- 
ing was wet, and clung to his lifeless limbs, and the sul- 
len reflection of the flames beyond the edge of the plain 
played on his blanched face. I took him in my arms, 
pushed hack his hair from his forehead, rubbed his 
temples, put my lips to his mouth to breathe life into 
his motionless chest; in short, did all that in my own 
condition I could do to call him hack to life. At last 
a quiver passed over his body, and I felt the beating of 
his heart, the flutter of returning breath. He opened 
his eyes wide, and stared about with an expression of 
fear and wonder. Then his gaze became conscious, and 
he started up with a loud cry. “ Where am I ? Who 
are you ? What has happened ? ” 

“ You are saved from the flames below us.” 

With the sound of my voice, and the flash of a flame 


THE LAKE OF BURNING OIL. 89 

darting higher than the others, full consciousness re- 
turned to him. 

“ Saved ? Flames ? Oh, good heavens, is it true 
the valley is burned ? " He raised his arm threaten- 
ingly. “ You're a coward," he said. “ A mean coward, 
a coyote, as I told you before. You could have saved 
them all, but you ran like a sneaking cur. I despise 
you. I must go back to them." 

He started away ; I took his hand to detain him. 
“ Stay here," I said. “ There is nothing more to he 
done for them." 

“ Let me alone. I won’t stay with a coward." He 
snatched his hand away, and ran off. I felt something 
between my fingers. It was a ring which he had pulled 
off as he broke away. I followed him, but he was soon 
lost in the shadow of the cliffs. 

I could not be angry with the boy; he was only a boy 
still, and the tragedy had so horrified him that he could 
not judge fairly. I slipped the ring on my little finger, 
and went back to take the rest I so sorely needed. All 
my nerves still quivered, and the valley in which the 
petroleum was yet burning seemed to me like the infer- 
nal regions from which I had escaped. Swallow lay close 
to me; there was grass around us, but he did not eat; 
the brave beast was as overcome as I was, or even more 
so. 

What had become of the inhabitants of the valley ? 
The question kept me awake; I longed to forget for a 
moment the horrors of that night, but sleep would not 
come. So I watched till morning, and all night long 
the awful fire leaped in a fountain of flame toward 
heaven, and so it would burn while the oil still came 
up through the opening the drill had made. 


90 


THE LAKE OF BURNING OIL. 


Daylight modified the intensity of the glow, hut as 
the sun came up I saw that with the exception of one 
little house on the side of the hill where the fire could 
not reach, everything had been destroyed. Before the 
solitary little building that had escaped destruction, 
stood some men, and I saw that Harry was with them. 
The venturesome boy had dared go hack during the 
night. It was easy enough to go now by daylight, hut 
the risk he had taken then, exhausted as he was too, 
was frightful to think of. 

The path by which I had come the day before had 
reappeared, and I rose to follow it. I saw Harry point- 
ing to me, and one of the men went into the house, and 
returned in a moment with a gun. He came to the 
river hank to await me, and when I had got within 
speaking distance called out: “ Hallo you ! What are 
you doing here ? Get out, if you don’t want a bullet 
between your ribs.” 

“ I came to see if I could help you,” I answered. 

“I know,” he sneered. “A man appreciates such 
help as yours.” 

“ Besides, I want to speak to the boy Harry,” I added. 
“ I have something to give him.” 

“ Oh, get out with you ! We know what such a fel- 
low as you would give him. First you’re cowardly and 
hard-hearted, and then you set fire to the oil out of re- 
venge.” 

For a moment I could not speak. He must have 
taken my silence as a sign of a guilty conscience, for he 
continued: “ So ! How surprised you are ! Yes, we 
know mighty well what you are. If you don’t get out 
this minute you’ll never he able to go.” 

He pointed his gun at me, hut I found my tongue, 


THE LAKE OF BURNING OIL. 9 1 

and cried angrily: “ Are you crazy, man ? There is 
no question of the oil being set afire. It was ignited 
by your own lamps; .the horrible accident was the re- 
sult of your own carelessness.” 

“ I know, I know. Will you go, or shall I shoot ? ” 
he said. 

“ Would I have saved the boy at the risk of my life 
if I had been such a villain ? ” I asked. 

“ Humbug ! If you had not run away, and had so 
chosen, you could have saved everybody, and now they 
are all burned — dead. Here’s your pay.” He fired at 
me as he spoke. 

I was too indignant to move; I stood perfectly still, 
which was fortunate, for his aim was bad, and I es- 
caped. Instinctively my finger sought my trigger for 
a return shot, but of course I did not pull it. I turned 
around, slowly ascending the path without looking back. 
If instead of receiving gratitude for saving Harry I was 
to be treated like a criminal, there was nothing left to 
do but shake the dust of what had been New Venango 
from my feet. Once more I mounted Swallow, and 
rode away from a scene which has ever been to me like 
a horrible nightmare. 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE ATTACK ON THE TRAIN. 

I was glad to turn my thoughts from the horrors I 
had just passed through, and the unpleasant ending of 
my brief acquaintance with Harry, to the fact that I 
was riding to meet Winnetou again. Our meeting place 
was only a day’s ride from New Venango, but I had to 
wait there a whole week for Winnetou. At last he came, 
and I did not realize myself, impatient as I was for his 
coming, how glad I should he to see him, till I spied 
his lithe, straight figure on the horizon, and heard the 
cry with which he spurred his horse to meet me. 

“ My dear, dear brother J ack,” he said with more 
emotion than I had thought one of his race could show, 
as he sprang from his horse, and laid his arms over my 
shoulders, looking eagerly into my eyes. “ You have 
come to keep your promise. My heart rejoices like the 
morning when the night is past, and the sun appears.” 

“ And I am as glad as the earth is glad when winter 
is over, and she feels the touch of spring,” I said, tak- 
ing both his hands, and pressing them joyfully. “ Hon- 
estly, Winnetou, I knew I wanted to see you, hut I 
did not realize how glad I’d be.” 

He caught his breath in a little laugh of pure happi- 
ness. 

“ Have you any trace of Santer ? ” 

His face clouded. “ He is everywhere; I have fol- 
lowed him in vain since I parted from my brother. Now 
92 


THE ATTACK ON THE TRAIN. 


93 


I have heard he is near here. But his fever for gold 
will bring him to Nugget Mountain; at last he will fall 
into my hands ! I will take my brother to the dwelling 
place of Old Firehand, who is my good friend, and a 
renowned trapper and warrior/’ 

I was very glad to learn this, for I had heard a great 
deal of this famous man, and was delighted at the pros- 
pect of seeing him. 

We rode till the shadows were lengthening, and even- 
ing was beginning to close in, when we paused on an 
elevation which swelled up in the prairie like a wave 
in the midst of the ocean. I took out my field glass 
to look over the stretch of prairie thus brought into 
view, and had scarcely adjusted it when I saw a long, 
straight line stretching to the furthest western point 
the eye could see. I gave the glass to Winnetou, who 
looked through it with an admiring and wondering 
“ uff ” “ Does my brother know what that long trail 

is ? ” I asked. “ It is not the buffaloes’, nor was it 
made by the foot of the red men.” 

“ Yes, I know. It is the path of the fire-steed which 
we are looking at.” He raised the glass again, and 
looked with great interest through this new device for 
lessening distance. Suddenly he lowered it, sprang 
from his horse, and hastily got behind the mound. Of 
course he had some good reason for doing so, and I imi- 
tated his action without asking why. “ There are In- 
dians over there by the fire-steed’s path,” he exclaimed. 
“ They are hidden, but I saw their horses.” 

Fie was wise to withdraw from our observation post 
so quickly, for we should certainly have been seen. 

“ What does my brother think is the design of these 
people ? ” I asked. 


94 


THE ATTACK ON THE TRAIN. 


“ They want to destroy the path of the fire-steed/’ 
Winnetou replied. 

“ That is what I think. Let me watch them.” Tak- 
ing the glass from Winneton I crept carefully forward. 
Although I was sure they had no suspicion that we were 
near I kept under coyer as far as possible, and got far 
enough toward them to count them as I lay on the 
ground. There were thirty, decked with war-paint, 
and armed with arrows as well as fire-arms. They had 
several extra horses, and from this I was sure they were 
after booty. I heard some one breathing softly behind 
me. Drawing my knife, I turned around: it was Win- 
netou. “ Uff ! ” he exclaimed. “ My brother is very 
hold to come so far. They are Poncas, the most daring 
of the Sioux, and there is Paranoh, their white 
chief.” 

I looked at him in surprise. “ Their white chief ! ” 
I echoed. 

“ Has my friend never heard of Paranoh, the fierce 
chief of Atabaskah ? No one knows whence he came, 
but he is a mighty warrior, and was adopted by the red 
men in a council of the tribes. As the gray-haired men 
went to Manitou, he received the calumet of chieftain- 
ship, and has taken many scalps. Then he was beguiled 
by the wicked spirit, and treated his braves like slaves, 
and was cast out. Now he dwells in the councils of the 
Poncas, and will lead them to do great deeds. Winne- 
tou has measured tomahawks with him, but this white 
man is full of knavery; he does not fight honorably.” 

“ I see that he is a traitor. He will stop the fire- 
steed, and kill, and rob my brethren.” 

“ The white men ? ” asked Winnetou, astonished. 
“ He is of the same color. What will my brother do ? ” 


THE ATTACK ON THE TRAIN. 


95 


“ I will wait to see whether Paranoh destroys the 
fire-steed’s path, and if he does I will ride to meet my 
brethren, and warn them.” 

The darkness grew deeper every moment, and made 
it more difficult to keep our eye on the enemy. As it 
was necessary to know exactly what the Indians were 
doing, I asked Winnetou to go hack to the horses, and 
wait me there while I spied on them. He agreed to 
this, hut added: “ If my brother is in danger let him 
imitate the cry of the prairie chicken, and I will come 
to his assistance.” He went hack and I crawled, lying 
flat on the ground, in the direction of the railroad, lis- 
tening intently to every sound. It was a long time be- 
fore I reached it, hut at last I did get there, and with 
redoubled caution crawled to the other side of the place 
where I had seen the Poncas. When I was near them 
I could see that they were busy about something. 
There were large rocks all around this place, an un- 
usual thing in the prairie, and that was the reason 
they selected it for carrying out their design. I heard 
them piling on the track rocks which must be very large 
and heavy, judging from the way the Indians puffed. 
There was not a moment to lose, and after I had 
crawled hack for a short distance, I sprang up, and ran 
as fast as I could to where I had left Winnetou. 

We laid our plans hastily, mounted, and went in a 
rapid trot along the track toward the east. A little 
moonlight would have been most acceptable, but the 
clear shimmer of the stars was enough to show us our 
way. A half an hour passed, and then another; there 
was no longer any danger for the approaching train if 
we could only succeed in attracting the engineer’s at- 
tention. We let our horses walk, and rode on in silence. 


9 6 


THE ATTACK ON THE TEA IN. 


At last we decided the time had come. We both dis- 
mounted, and fastened our horses securely. We gath- 
ered the dry grass into a heap, and twisting it into a 
sort of torch, peppered it with powder, and calmly 
waited events, listening intently in the darkness, and 
keeping our eyes in the direction where the train should 
appear. 

At last, after what seemed a little eternity of wait- 
ing, the light glimmered far, far away, tiny at first, but 
gradually growing larger. Then we heard the rumble; 
the moment had come. I drew my revolver and fired 
into the bundle of dried grass, which quickly ignited. 
Swinging this improvised torch with one arm, I held 
up the other as a signal to stop. The engineer saw me, 
for the instant the torch was raised he whistled “ down 
brakes/’ and the car wheels groaned, slackened, stood 
still. 

Giving Winnetou a sign to follow me I ran before the 
locomotive, and holding up my co?t w r hich I had taken 
off for this purpose, before the headlight, I shouted: 
“ Put out your lights.” 

Instantly the light was gone. The men on the Far 
Western roads have presence of mind, and are quick 
in action. Having obeyed my suggestion, the engineer 
called out from his cab: “ Why are you covering our 
reflector, man ? I hope there’s nothing wrong be- 
yond ? ” 

“ We must be in darkness,” I replied. “ There are 
Indians up above who are waiting to wreck the train.” 

“ You don’t say! If that is so you’re the bravest fel- 
low that ever blessed this cursed region.” And jump- 
ing out, he wrung my hand till it ached. 

In a moment we were surrounded by the passengers: 


THE ATTACK ON THE TRAIN. 


97 


“ What is it ? What’s up ? Why are we stopping ? ” 
echoed on every side. In a few words the situation was 
explained. 

“ We aren’t many, passengers and all,” said the en- 
gineer, “but we are well armed. Do you know how 
many Indians there are ? ” 

“ I counted thirty.” 

“ Good ! We’ll do them up. But who’s that man 
over there ? By George ! An Indian ! ” He drew 
and aimed at Winnetou, who had followed me, and 
stood half in shadow behind me. 

“ Hold on ! ” I cried. “ He’s my companion; he’d 
he glad to know the bold rider of the fire-steed.” 

“ Oh, that’s another thing. Call him over. What’s 
his name ? ” 

“ He is Winnetou, the Apache chief.” 

“ Winnetou ! ” he exclaimed loudly, and as he did so 
a man pushed forward through the group of passengers. 
“ Is Winnetou here ? ” he asked. 

He was a powerfully built man dressed like a trapper, 
and his tone was loud and cheery. He went over to 
Winnetou, and said with a ring of pleasure in his big 
voice: “Has Winnetou forgotten his friend’s face and 
voice ? ” 

“ Uff ! ” exclaimed Winnetou with equal pleasure. 
“ How can Winnetou forget Old Firehand, the greatest 
of the white hunters, though he has not seen him for 
many moons ? ” 

“ Old Firehand, Old Firehand,” rose on all sides, 
while every one crowded around to see the most re- 
nowned of the Indian fighters, to whom rumor attrib- 
uted deeds of almost incredible daring. 

“ Old Firehand ! ” ejaculated the engineer. “ Why 


98 THE ATTACH OH THE TRAIN. 

didn’t you tell me who you were, man ? I’d have seen 
you had the state-room.” 

“ Thank you, I was all right. But we mustn’t waste 
precious time. We must decide what we’re going to 
do about these Indians. And are you Winnetou’s 
friend ? ” he asked turning to me. “ Then you can 
count me another. Here’s my hand.” 

“ Yes, he is my friend,” said Winnetou. “ My friend 
and brother. We have drunk one another’s blood in 
the bond of brotherhood.” 

“ Is that so ? ” exclaimed Old Firehand quickly, com- 
ing nearer me, and looking at me closely. “ Then you 
must be — ” 

“ Old Shatterhand,” said Winnetou, finishing his sen- 
tence for him. “ Beneath whose hand every foe falls to 
the ground.” 

“ Old Shatterhand, Old Shatterhand,” everybody 
cried, pressing around me, as they had around Old Fire- 
hand. 

“ You are Old Shatterhand ? ” cried the engineer de- 
lighted. “ Old Firehand, Old Shatterhand, and Win- 
netou. What a lucky meeting. With the three most 
famous, and most invincible men in the West we are 
sure to succeed, and all is up with the Indians. You 
tell us what to do, and we will obey you.” 

“They are thirty red villains,” said Old Firehand, 
“ and we’ll shoot them in a heap.” 

“ They are men,” I remarked. 

“ Beasts in the shape of men,” he answered sternly. 
“ I have heard enough of you to know you are forbear- 
ing with these fellows, hut I am of a different way of 
thinking. I suppose you realize they’d have killed 
every man on this train ? If you’d suffered what I 


THE ATTACK ON THE TRAIN. 


99 


have you’d look at things in a different light. And as 
to Paranoh, I have a reckoning with him which only 
blood can wipe out.” 

“ How/’ assented the usually quiet Winnetou. There 
must be some reason, I thought, for this strong feel- 
ing. 

“ You are quite right,” said the engineer. “ For- 
bearance in this case would be wrong. Tell us your 
plan.” 

“ The train hands will stay with the cars. The pas- 
sengers can come wbth us, if they like the adventure, 
and we’ll teach these villains that it’s not just the thing 
to wreck a train. We’ll: creep up to them in the dark- 
ness. As they have no idea we’re near them the sur- 
prise will be as effectual as our weapons. As soon as 
we’re through with them we’ll signal with fire for the 
train to come on, only it must be slow, for we might not 
clear the track perfectly. Now, who will come ? ” 

“ I ! I ! I ! ” cried every voice. 

“ Then take your weapons, and come. We’ve no 
time to lose, for the Indians know the train is due, and 
if it doesn’t show up they’ll get suspicious.” 

We started, Winnetou and I ahead. The night was 
very still, and we had to be on the alert for the slightest 
rustle. The moon had arisen, and though it made it 
harder for us to conceal ourselves, it was an advantage 
in other ways. Occasionally we could see a figure ap- 
pear on the horizon, over the mound where we had dis- 
covered the Poncas. They had stationed a sentinel 
there to watch for the train, but if he happened to turn 
his eye from the track he might easily discover us. 
After a few minutes we could see the others lying mo- 
tionless on the ground. We moved up until we were 


IOO 


THE ATTACK ON THE TRAIN. 


directly over against the murderous band, and lay ready, 
with guns cocked. The first thing was to disable the 
sentinel, an undertaking that few but Winnetou. could 
carry out. The man could see the smallest thing in 
the moonlight, and it was so still he could hear the 
slightest motion, and even if these difficulties were 
overcome, it would be necessary to spring on him, when 
the others would be certain to see the attack. Never- 
theless Winnetou willingly undertook to solve this diffi- 
cult problem. He slid forward, and in a few minutes 
the watch seemed to sink into the earth, yet the next 
instant was standing erect again, in his full stature. 
This movement had taken only a moment, brief as a 
flash of lightning, yet I knew that in it Winnetou had 
pulled the sentinel down by his feet as he stabbed him, 
and had risen himself in his place. The sentinel was 
no longer the Ponca, but Winnetou. 

This was one of this marvellous Indian’s feats, and 
with it our greatest difficulty was over. We were ready 
now to attack, but before the signal to advance could 
be given a shot rattled behind me. One of our band 
had been careless enough to keep his finger on his trig- 
ger, and the revolver had gone off. We could not delay 
now, and sprang out on our foe. The Indians rushed 
for their horses with horrible yells. “ Shoot the 
horses,” cried Old Firehand, “ and then forward.” 

Our shots rattled; the horses fell, and there was be- 
fore us a tangled mass of horses, their riders trying to 
crawl from under them. 

Old Firehand and Winnetou had thrown themselves 
on the snarl brandishing their tomahawks, while I kept 
the Indians at bay by shooting at the horses whenever 
a rider tried to get through his fallen comrades. When 


THE ATTACH ON THE TRAIN. 10 1 

I had used my last cartridge I laid aside my rifle, and 
gun, drew my tomahawk, and hastened to the side of 
Old Firehand and Winnetou. We three were the only 
ones who really fought the Poncas. I had strongly 
suspected the passengers from the train would not be 
much use, and it proved to be the case. 

I spied Paranoh among the heap of Indians, and tried 
to get at him. Evading me, he got close to the Apache, 
tried to dodge again, but Winnetou sprang on him cry- 
ing: “ Paranoh ! Will the Atabaskah dog fly before 
the chief of the Apaches ? The earth’s mouth shall 
drink his blood, and the vulture’s claws shall tear his 
body, but his scalp shall hang at the belt of the 
Apache.” 

He threw away his tomahawk, drew his knife, and* 
seized the white chief by the throat, but he was pre- 
vented from giving the fatal stroke. As he cast -him- 
self on the Ponca with this loud cry that was contrary 
to his custom, Old Firehand had glanced toward him, 
and seen his foe. In this rapid glance he had recog- 
nized the man he hated with all the bitterness of his 
soul, and whom he had sought for seven years. “ Tim 
Finnerty ! ” he cried, flinging aside the Indians like 
straw, and springing through them to Winnetou, whose 
hand, raised to strike, he seized. “ Stop, brother; this 
man is mine.” 

Paranoh stood perfectly still as he heard his name 
called, but as soon as his eyes fell on Old Firehand he 
wrenched himself free from Winnetou’s hand, and fled. 
Instantly I shook off the Indian with whom I had been 
fighting, and pursued him, for I knew he was Winne- 
tou’s deadly enemy, and the last moment had shown me 
Old Firehand had good cause tc hate him. I heard 


102 


THE ATTACK ON THE TRAIN . 


Winnetou say: “ Let Old Firehand stay here. My 
young white brother will catch and kill the Atabaskah 
crow. He has the foot of the storm, and no one can es- 
cape him.” 

These words naturally spurred me to do my best. I 
was gaining on the fugitive, the distance between us 
was lessening, I could hear his panting breath. 1 had 
no other weapon than the empty revolver, and my bowie 
knife, which I drew. I had dropped my tomahawk, for 
it would hinder me in running. Paranoh sprang aside 
to let me pass him in my haste, intending to come on 
me from behind. I saw through this manoeuvre, and 
turned just as he did, so that we should collide, and thus 
my knife ran into him up to the hilt. The collision 
was so violent that we both fell, but he did not rise as 
I picked myself up, and I did not know whether he was 
fatally wounded or not. But he did not move a limb; I 
could not see that he breathed, and I drew out my knife. 
It was not the first enemy I had laid low, but this was 
one of my own race, and I found myself hoping he was 
not dead, though he so richly deserved to die. As I 
stood looking at him I heard a quick breath behind me. 
I turned sharply, but had nothing to fear: it was Win- 
netou, who with loving anxiety had followed me, and 
now stood beside me. 

“ My brother is as quick as the arrow of the Apaches, 
and his knife goes true to its mark,” he said as he looked 
at the form before us. 

“ Where is Old Firehand ? ” I asked. 

“ He is as strong as the bear in the time of the melt- 
ing snow, but his foot is held by the hand of the years. 
Will not my brother take the scalp of the Atabaskah ? ” 

“ I leave that for my red friend,” I replied. With 


THE ATTACK ON THE TEA IN. 


103 


three cuts the scalp lock was severed from the head of 
the dead man. How hitter must have been the hatred 
of the humane Winnetou for this Finnerty ! 

I had withdrawn a little during this proceeding, 
which I could not hear to look upon, and I saw some 
dark forms coming toward us. 

“ There are six Poncas who seem to he looking for 
some one. Winnetou must hide, for unarmed as we are 
it would be foolhardy to let them see us,” I said. 

The Apache crawled backward, close to the ground, 
and I followed. The Indians paused when they came 
to the scene of my meeting with Paranoh, and uttered 
an “ uff ” of surprise at seeing a body lying there. But 
when they came up to him, recognized him, and saw 
that he had been scalped, they uttered a howl of 
rage. 

That was a critical moment for us. We were in in- 
stant danger of discovery, so we resolved on ahold stroke. 
Leaping out we were on the horses’ backs in a trice (the 
horses from which the Poncas had just dismounted), 
and dashed away at a mad gallop. It was funny to 
think of the blank faces which must look on our flight 
as they realized the trick that had been played them, 
and even the grave Winnetou could not help .a laugh- 
ing “ uff ” as he pictured their dismay. 

We were anxious about Old Firehand, who might also 
have met a band of the Indians. Nor was this anxiety 
lessened when on our return to our comrades we found 
that he had not come back, although we had been gone 
so long. 

“ My brother, Old Firehand, has lost Paranoh’s trail,” 
said Winnetou, “ and may be attacked by his enemies. 
I will go with Old Shatterhand to look for him ” 


104 THE ATTACK ON THE TRAIN . 

“ Yes, we must go quickly,” I agreed, “ for lie may be 
in danger.” 

We lighted the signal fire for the train to come on, 
shook hands cordially with the passengers, who were 
unspeakably grateful for their rescue, resumed the 
weapons we had cast away in following Paranoh, and 
hastened in the direction in which we had last seen Old 
Firehand. 

At first the noise of the approaching train drowned 
all other sounds, but after we had gone far enough from 
this, the profound silence of the night enveloped us, 
and still nothing revealed to us the whereabouts of our 
missing comrade. After a long and fruitless search we 
were about to go back to the railroad, thinking he too 
must have returned by this time, when we heard a cry 
in the distance. 

“ That must be our brother, Old Firehand, for the 
Poncas would not betray themselves by a cry as they 
are fleeing,” said Winnetou. “ Quick, we must go to 
him; he is in danger.” 

We separated, Winnetou going east, I toward the 
north, whence I thought the sound had come. As I 
ran forward I found I was right, for the cry was re- 
peated, much louder than before. And then I saw a 
group of men fighting. “ I’m coming, Old Firehand; 
I’m coming,” I shouted, running still faster. 

Old Firehand was kneeling on the ground; he had 
sunk down wounded, and was defending himself against 
three foes, having already laid three others low. They 
were the same six Poncas whom we had seen, and whose 
horses we had taken. Each stroke might end Old Fire- 
hand, and I was fully fifty feet away. So I paused, and 
raised my revolver, which I had reloaded. The light 


THE ATTACK ON THE TRAIN. 105 

of the moon was uncertain, my pulse was rapid, and my 
breath short from running, dangerous conditions under 
which to shoot, for I might hit him whom I wished to 
aid; however, I must venture it. 

Three shots in rapid succession; the three foes fell. 
I ran up to Old Firehand, who cried: “ Thank God ! 
That was the nick of time, the very last moment.” 

“ You are wounded; seriously ? ” I asked. 

“ Not to endanger my life. Tomahawk cuts in the 
legs, that’s all. The fellows could not get at me from 
above, so they hacked away below. But what a shot 
you are ! In such a light and after such a run to hit 
all three in the head ! I had only my knife and my fist, 
for I had thrown away my other weapons. If you 
hadn’t come up I’d be in eternity now. I won’t forget 
this debt to Old Shatterhand.” 

Winnetou joined us at this moment, and we managed 
to get Old Firehand back to the horses. We found that 
we should be forced to wait at least a week before he 
would be able to ride, however, so we carried him half 
a day’s journey to where there was water and woods, 
and waited his recovery in safety, and gratitude for the 
happy ending of our good night’s work. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


A CHAPTER OF SURPRISES. 

Several days had passed, and Old Firehand had re- 
covered sufficiently to ride with us to his " village.” 
The night before we were to start I sat with him by the 
camp fire, and he opened the case hanging around his 
neck, took out the pipe he carried in it, filled it, and 
passed the tobacco pouch to me. As I filled my pipe, 
and returned the pouch to him the firelight fell on my 
little finger, and Harry’s little ring showed bright in 
the flame. Old Firehand’s sharp eyes caught the gleam 
of the gold, and with a surprised face he asked: " What 
is that ring you wear ? ” 

" It is the memorial of a horrible hour in my life,” I 
replied. 

" Will you let me look at it ? 99 

I did so. Scarcely had he taken it in his hand than 
he uttered an exclamation, and demanded: " Where did 
you get this ring ? 99 His voice was agitated, and on 
my replying: " It belonged to a boy in New Venango,” 
he started to his feet, crying: "In New Venango! 
Were you at Foster’s ? Did you see Harry ? You 
spoke of a horrible hour; was there some misfortune ? ” 

" It was an accident in which my brave Swallow and 
I were nearly burned alive,” I said, extending my hand 
for the ring. 

"Wait; I want to know how you came by this,” he 
106 


A CHAPTER OF SURPRISES. lO? 

said. “ I have a sacred right to it; greater than any 
one’s else.” 

So he knew Harry, and Foster, and must stand in 
some peculiar relation to them. I had a hundred ques- 
tions on my tongue, but silenced them, and told him 
from the beginning the story of the night in which New 
Venango was destroyed. As it proceeded Old Fire- 
hand’s excitement grew past control. He came closer 
and closer to me; his mouth hanging open as though 
he would drink in my words; his eyes fastened on mine, 
and his body bent as though he were on a horse’s back, 
urging him forward. He struggled with me in the wa- 
ter, and as I described leaping the cliffs, seized my arm 
in such a vise-like grip I could hardly restrain an ex- 
pression of pain, while the breath came loud and pant- 
ing from his heaving breast. 

“ Heavens ! ” he gasped, falling back white and trem- 
bling as he heard how I had cleared the precipice, and 
brought the boy through in safety. “ That was hor- 
rible, frightful ! I have suffered as though my own 
body was scorching. Yet I knew you had saved him, 
or he could not have given you his ring.” 

“He did not give it to me; it fell from nis finger 
without his knowledge.” 

“ And you didn’t give it back ? ” 

“ I couldn’t; he ran away from me. I followed him 
the next morning, but he was with some people who had 
escaped, and who would not let me come near them; 
they accused me of causing the whole tragedy, and shot 
at me, so naturally I left them to themselves.” 

“ I see. What became of Foster ? ” 

“ I heard that none but those people with whom I 
saw Harry had escaped.” 


Io8 A CHAP TEX OF SUXPX/SES. 

“ That was a horrible punishment for keeping back 
the oil to force the price up.” 

“ Then you knew Foster ? ” I said. 

“ I have been in New Venango sometimes. And you 
are sure Harry was not hurt at all ? ” 

“ Quite sure. He is an unusual youngster.” 

“ Yes. His father is an old trapper whose bullets 
know the way between the ribs of a foe.” 

“ Where is this father ? ” 

“ Sometimes here; sometimes there. I dare say 
you’ll meet him.” 

“ I should be glad to.” 

“ You will, I’m sure. You’ve earned his thanks.” 

“ Oh, I didn’t mean that.” 

“ I know, I know. I understand you pretty well. 
Here’s your ring. I’ll send Winnetou in; his watch is 
up. Lie down and rest; we’ve a long ride before us. 
Good night.” 

“ Good night. Don’t fail to wake me if you need 
me.” 

“ Sleep, young man; I can at least keep my eyes open 
for you. You’ve done enough for me.” 

He left me to speculate on the meaning of these 
last words. Long after Winnetou had come in, and 
wrapped himself in his blanket to sleep, I lay wakeful. 
It had driven all sleep from my eyes to re-live that 
awful evening, and it seemed to me that I still felt the 
hot breath of the flames around my head. Toward 
morning I slept, and when I awoke I was alone, though 
the others could not be far away, for the little kettle of 
boiling water hung over the fire, and the preparations 
for breakfast were making. I looked out, and saw my 
comrades standing talking earnestly together, and their 


A CHAPTER OF SURPRISES. IO9 

glances toward our camp showed me that I was the sub- 
ject of their conversation. 

We resumed our journey that morning, and it seemed 
to me as we rode that there was something like tender- 
ness in Old Firehand’s eyes as he looked at me. During 
our noon halt, while Old Firehand had gone ahead to 
reconnoitre the surroundings, Winnetou laid his hand 
on my shoulder, and said: “ My brother is as hold as the 
great cat of the forest, and as silent as the mouth of the 
rocks. He has ridden through the flaming oil, and has 
not spoken of it to Winnetou, his friend.” 

“ The tongue of man,” I answered, “ is like the knife 
in the shield; it is sharp and keen, and not fit for 
playing.” 

“ My brother is wise and right, hut why has he not 
spoken of the boy that Swallow bore through the 
flames ? ” 

“ It would have sounded like self-praise. Do you 
know this boy P ” 

“ I have borne him in my arms; I have shown him 
the flowers of the field, the trees of the forest, and the 
stars of heaven. I have taught him to shoot the arrow 
from the bow, and mount the wild steed. I have 
taught him the speech of the red men, and at last gave 
him the pistol whose bullet pierced Eibanna, the daugh- 
ter of the Mascaleros.” 

I looked at him in wonder, and a suspicion dawned 
upon me which I could not verify, for Old Firehand re- 
turned at that moment. But I pondered on Winnetou’s 
words, and putting them together with what Harry had 
said, and Old Firehand’s manner and words, I thought 
I had the clue to the mystery. 

After an hour’s rest we again set forth, and our horses 


iio 


A CHAPTER OF SURPRISES. 


trotted on as though they knew that rest and oats 
awaited them, and as twilight began to fall the height 
behind which lay the valley wherein was Old Firehand’s 
stronghold was already rising beneath our feet. We en- 
tered a ravine that apparently would land us in a river 
flowing by, for it seemed to have no other outlet. 

“ Halt ! ” cried a voice in the darkness. “ Give the 
word.” 

“ Brave and silent,” said Old Firehand, responding 
with the countersign. On receiving it the sentinel 
came forth, and the sight of him filled me with amaze- 
ment. Under the melancholy droop of a felt hat whose 
color, age, or shape no mortal man could determine, 
rose a nose of truly gigantic proportions, from a forest 
of beard. On each side of this great organ twinkled 
two little eyes of unusual brightness and restlessness. 
The head rested on a body invisible to us below the 
knees, the upper part of which was clad in an old leather 
hunting- jacket, apparently made for a much larger 
person, and which gave the little man the appearance 
of a child who had dressed up in his grandfather’s dress- 
ing-gown. He carried an old gun which I would have 
handled only with the greatest caution, and as he stood 
before us in conscious dignity one could not imagine 
a droller caricature of a trapper than he. Funny 
though he might be I was delighted to see him, for he 
was Sam Hawkins. 

“ Sam, what’s the matter with your eyes that you 
challenge me for the countersign ?•” asked Old Firehand. 

“ Well, a body’s got to challenge somebody if he’s a 
sentinel. Welcome home. I’m out of my wits with 
delight at seeing my tenderfoot again, and Winnetou, 
the great Apache chief.” 


A CHAPTER OF SURPRISES. 


Ill 


He seized both my hands, and pressed me against 
his hunting- jacket, quite trembling with joy. 

“ It does my heart good to see you again, dear Sam,” 
I said. “ Didn’t you tell Old Firehand that you knew 
me, and had been my teacher in the chase ? ” 

“ Of course I did.” 

“ And yet he never told me that I’d meet my old 
friend here.” 

Old Firehand laughed. “ I wanted to surprise you,” 
he said. “ You see I have known you for a long time. 
You will find two other friends with me.” 

“ Dick Stone and Will Parker then, for they and Sam 
are inseparable.” 

“ The very ones, and they’ll be glad enough to see 
you,” said my host. “ What’s the news, Sam ? How 
are the traps ? ” 

“ All right; come, see for yourself.” 

We turned to the left, where there was a narrow cleft, 
its opening overgrown with ivy and wild blackberry 
vines. Old Firehand bent low in his saddle, and we 
followed, riding slowly through the bed of a brook 
which flowed through this second, smaller ravine. For 
a long time, and with many turns, we followed our 
guide in the darkness, till at last we came to a similar 
cleft to that through which we had entered, and at its 
opening I paused in surprise. We found ourselves at 
the beginning of a valley surrounded by hills, whose 
sides were impassable cliffs. The valley was verdant, 
and many horses and mules grazed there, guarded by 
numerous dogs of that wolf-like variety which is used 
by the Indians as watch-dogs and beasts of burden. 

“ This is my ‘ village,’ ” said Old Firehand, turning 
to us. “ Here I dwell as in a castle. Not many of the 


12 


A CHAPTER OF SURPRISES. 


redskins who crawl over those rocky hills suspect that 
these sharp rocks are not a solid mass, hut enclose such 
a lovely valley.” 

“ How did you discover such a valuable place ? ” 

“ I followed a raccoon to the cleft which was not then 
covered with ivy, and of course I immediately took pos- 
session of the place.” 

We pushed on further, and were immediately sur- 
rounded by Old Firehand’s people, who gave full ex- 
pression to their pleasure at his return. Among them 
I found Dick Stone and Will Parker, who were nearly 
beside themselves with delight at seeing me again, and 
whom Winnetou greeted cordially. Winnetou took off 
his horse’s saddle and bridle, and gave him a light 
stroke as a suggestion to him to get his own supper. I 
followed his example, gave my fine Swallow full liberty, 
and then went off to see the place. 

I had made the tour of the valley, and come back to 
the camping place, eaten my supper, and listened to 
self-laudatory stories of adventure till I tired, and rose 
up to make a little visit to Swallow. 

I walked through the tender grass over which the 
clear and brilliant heavens spread so kindly, while its 
million lights looked down sadly on a world whose sons 
stood armed against one another. A soft, joyous 
whinny came from a bush which grew beside the brook, 
calling me to Swallow, who had recognized me, and 
rubbed his head lovingly on my shoulder. He grew 
dearer to me every day, and I laid my head lovingly on 
his soft, glossy neck. A quick sniffing of his nostrils, 
which I had learned was a warning, made me look 
around. Was I dreaming or awake ? There stood 
Harry. 


A CHAPTER OF SURPRISES. 


1 13 


“ Harry, is it possible ? ” I cried joyfully. 

The boy acted embarrassed, remembering how we had 
parted. “ I wanted to see your Swallow, who saved my 
life,” he said.. 

“ Here he is. Then you would rather not see Swal- 
low’s master ? ” I turned as if to go, but he laid his 
hand on my sleeve. “ Forgive me,” he said. “ I did 
not understand. And now you have twice put your life 
in the greatest danger to save my father. I must thank 
you, and beg your pardon.” 

“ It’s all right, Harry; you did not see straight, that’s 
all. And as to the other cause for gratitude, any fron- 
tiersman would have done what I did; it’s not worth 
talking about. Have you been doing any more wonder- 
ful shooting with your old pistol ? ” 

He drew the weapon, and held it up. “ You’re a 
famous shot,” he said; “ but you couldn’t do much with 
this old fellow. Queer you spoke of it, because my 
father and Winnetou said I should tell you its story.” 

“ Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “ Then Old Fire- 
hand is your father ? ” 

“ Didn’t you know that ? Of course he is. But 
about this pistol. It was given me by Winnetou, and 
one of its shots entered my mother’s heart.” 

I uttered an exclamation of horror. 

“ Yes,” Harry said, “ and it shall avenge her in my 
hands. Come over here and sit down. You must 
know about it, but it’s a story to make short.” 

He sat down by me, and looking over the peaceful 
valley before us, began: “ My father was born in Penn- 
sylvania. He came West when he was quite young, and 
hardships and adventures of all sorts made him into a 
man respected by all the white settlers, and feared by 


1 14 A CHAPTER OF SURPRISES. 

the Indians. His wanderings brought him to Rio Pe- 
cos when Winnetou was a child, and he was the guest 
of Tah-tsche-tunge, the brother of the chief Intschu- 
Tschuna, and he learned to know Ribanna, his daugh- 
ter. She was as beautiful as the dawn, and lovable as 
the mountain rose. None of the other daughters of the 
tribe knew so well how to tan the skins, and make the 
hunting clothes, and when she went to bring wood for 
the fire of her kettle, she stepped across the plain like 
a queen, and her hair fell to her feet in long strands. 
She was beloved by Manitou, the Great Spirit, and was 
the pride of the tribe, and all the braves longed to take 
her in their wigwam as their wife. But none found grace 
in her eyes, for she loved the white hunter, who was her 
father’s guest, and he loved her, and spoke to her as to 
the daughters of the pale-faces. So they were married, 
and I was born in a happy home. As I grew older 
Winnetou, the son of my mother’s uncle, and then 
about as old as I am now, taught me all that I longed 
to know of hunting, and games of courage and daring. 
I grew to be a boy of seven, and there came a day when 
my father went away, taking me with him, and when he 
came back his home was burned, his wife and little baby 
gone. Tim Finnerty, a white man, who had often been 
in the Apache pueblo, had wanted the rose of Rio Pecos 
for his wife, but the Indians were not friendly to him, 
for he was a thief, and so he vowed vengeance. He 
learned from my father, whom he had met in the Black 
Hills, that Ribanna was his wife, and he stirred up the 
Black Feet to go on the war-path against my father’s 
camp. They did as he wished. While he was away 
they plundered and burned the camp, and carried off 
his wife and child. When he returned Winnetou was 


A CHAPTER OF SURPRISES. II5 

with him. They looked on the ruin before them, and 
followed on the trail of the robbers, and as the crime 
had been committed only the day before their return, 
they knew they would overtake them. Winnetou kept 
at my father’s right hand, and I shall never forget the 
look on their faces, as they hastened on their way with 
agony in their hearts. We overtook them at Bee Fork, 
and waited until night to fall upon them. I was to 
stay behind with an Apache left to watch the horses, 
but he paid no attention to me, and when the moment 
of attack came I crept forward between the trees, and 
reached the edge of the wood as the first shot was fired. 
It was a horrible sight, the savages rushing at their ene- 
mies, while the groans of the wounded and dying filled 
the air. I laid in the wet grass praying, and after a 
while I crept back in terror to the watch. He had dis- 
appeared, and as I heard the triumphant howls of our 
foes I knew we were conquered. I hid until the follow- 
ing evening, and then ventured out. It was profoundly 
still, and the moon shone down on the lifeless forms 
lying there. I wandered between them, fascinated by 
my fright, and came upon my mother, shot in the 
breast, her arms clasping my baby sister, whose little 
head was cleft by a knife. The sight robbed me of my 
senses; I fell fainting upon them. How long I had 
lain there I do not know when I heard stealthy steps 
near me, and rose up to see — my father and Winnetou, 
their clothing torn, and their bodies bleeding from their 
wounds. They had been taken prisoners, but had es- 
caped.” 

Harry drew a long breath at the end of this tragic 
story, which explained to me all that I had been won- 
dering over. He was Old Firehand’s son, Winnetou’s 


I 16 a CHAPTER OF SURPRISES. 

cousin, and the reason for their hatred for Paranoh, or 
Tim Finnerty, was only too plain. Harry had spoken 
like a man, and it was hard to realize he had been a 
little child when this tragedy was enacted. He turned 
to me and said: “Is your mother still living ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ What would you do if she were murdered ? ” 

“ I would let the arm of the law seize the mur- 
derer.” 

“ Good ! But when it is too weak, or too short, as it 
is in the West, we have to make our own arm the law.” 

“Never forget the difference between punishment 
and revenge, Harry. The former is the consequence of 
sin, and is included in the idea of divine and human 
justice, but the latter is hideous, and lowers the human 
being to the level of the brute.” 

“ You speak thus because you have no Indian blood 
flowing in your cold veins. The only feeling in the 
heart of my father and Winnetou as they laid the two 
innocent dead in their grave, was fierce hatred for Tim 
Finnerty, and that feeling I shared. You have slain 
the murderer of Ribanna, and you have saved her hus- 
band and son; forgive my being so unjust to you.” 

“ There is nothing to forgive, my dear Harry. But 
you have not yet told me how you came by this pistol.” 

“ When Finnerty shot my mother with it Winnetou 
threw himself upon him, and wrenched it away. He 
concealed it in the grass, and when I was old enough 
he gave it to me, to avenge her death with it. You 
have done it for me.” He put his long brown fingers 
in my hand as I held it out to him, and we rose, and 
went back to the camp. 


CHAPTER IX. 


PAR AN OH COMES TO LIFE AGAIN. 

I opened my eyes in the morning to see Harry stand- 
ing in my doorway. “ Sam Hawkins and I are going 
to look after the traps; will yon come with us, Mr. Hil- 
dreth ? ” he said. 

“ With pleasure, only call me Jack, for I’m not so 
very venerable, and life’s too rapid out here for cere- 
mony,” I said, jumping up. 

We went out through the cleft in the rocks, turning 
toward the direction in which we had come yesterday. 
We waded the little stream downward in its course to 
the point where it flowed into the river. Thick briars 
that were really impenetrable grew on the banks of the 
stream, and the tendrils of the wild grape.twined them- 
selves together, reaching over to the trees, and forming 
a net-work through which we had to cut our way with a 
knife. Although no danger was to he anticipated, yet 
Sam, going on ahead, scanned every spot where a foot- 
print might be discovered, and his little eyes ceaselessly 
turned from side to side, peering through the rich 
young vegetation. At last he lifted a branch, stooped 
down, and crawled under. Harry did the same, saying 
to me: “ Come this way; this is our beaver path.” 

A small but perfectly distinct line ran through the 
thicket, and we crept for some distance parallel with the 
stream till Sam paused, and turning to us, laid his 
fingers on his lips. 


Il8 PARANOH COMBS TO LIFE AGAIN. 

“ We are there,” whispered Harry, “ and the sentinel 
is suspicious.” 

After a time, during which it was profoundly still, 
we crept forward and reached a bend of the stream, 
which enabled us to watch the beaver colony. A dam 
about the width of a man’s foot had been thrown out 
in the stream, and its four-footed owners were busy 
strengthening and increasing it. On the opposite hank 
I saw a crowd of industrious furry folk, gnawing the 
branches with their sharp teeth where they must fall in 
the water. Others were occupied transporting these 
branches, shoving them ahead of them as they swam, 
while others plastered their structure with rich loam 
which they brought from the shore, using their feet and 
thick tails as trowels. I watched the labor of these ac- 
tive little people with interest, especially one unusually 
big specimen sitting on the dam with the air of a sen- 
tinel. Suddenly the thick fellow pricked up his ears, 
half-turned, uttered a cry of warning, and the next 
moment disappeared under water. Instantly the others 
followed him, splashing the water in their sudden 
plunge with their flat tails. There was not time to be 
amused by their movements, for this unexpected dis- 
appearance meant the approach of an enemy, and the 
greatest enemy of these peaceable little animals is man. 

As the last beaver plunged into the water we had our 
weapons in our hands, waiting the appearance of the 
intruder. We had not waited long before we saw two 
Indians creeping along the stream a little above us. 
One had several traps hung over his shoulder, the other 
carried a bundle of skins; both were fully armed, and 
looked around with an air that showed us they knew 
they were near an enemy 


PARANOH COMES TO LITE AGAIN. 1 19 

“ Confound them ! ” hissed Sam through his teeth. 
“ They’ve found our traps. Wait, you curs, and my old 
gun Liddy shall tell you whose those traps and pelts 
are.” 

He raised his gun, but it was important that we 
should punish these fellows without noise, and I caught 
the trapper by the arm. I saw that they were Poncas, 
and the war-paint on their faces showed they were not 
out hunting, but were on the war-path. There were 
others then in the vicinity, and a shot would summon 
their avengers. 

“ Don’t shoot, Sam,” I whispered. “ Don’t you see 
they’re on the war-path, and there are more near here ? 
Take your knife. I’ll attend to one, and you to the 
other.” 

The two Indians stood facing us, looking for foot- 
prints. Softly, very softly I crept forward, my knife 
between my teeth. When I reached the edge of the 
bush I sprang out, and used my knife so effectually on 
the Indian nearest me that he fell without a sound. 
It was necessary to do this, for they were Poncas, and 
if they discovered our stronghold it would cost us our 
lives. I drew out my knife, and turned, ready to attack 
the other if needed, but he lay on the ground with Sam 
standing astride of him, saying: “ Now, young man, 
you may take as many skins in the Happy Hunting 
Grounds as you please, but you can’t have ours ! ” 

“ We must hide these Indians’ bodies, Sam,” I said. 

“ You’re right. I’ll bet my moccasins to dancing 
pumps there’ll be red men here in a little while.” 

Accordingly we concealed the bodies of the Indians, 
and while Sam returned to the valley to warn our peo- 
ple, Harry and I crept forward in the thicket to discover 


120 PARANOH COMES TO LIFE AG AIM. 

how the land lay. We made our way onward for an 
hour without interruption, and came to a second beaver 
colony, but its inhabitants were not visible outside their 
dwellings. 

“ Here was where we put those traps that the Indians 
stole. You see the trail leads into the woods from 
here; we must follow it,” whispered Harry. 

“ I wish you would go back, and let me do this alone, 
Harry,” I said. 

“ How can you think of such a thing ? ” asked the 
boy. 

“ Do you realize how dangerous it may be ? ” 

“ Why shouldn’t I ? It can’t be more so than the 
things I have done already. I’m going anyhow, so 
don’t bother.” 

We went on then, leaving the stream, and stepping 
softly between the slender trunks of the tall forest 
which formed a thick green roof over the moss-grown 
earth, in which we could see the trail only by the closest 
scrutiny. Harry, who had gone ahead, stopped. The 
trail was no longer that of two, but of four men, who 
had come to this point together, and had separated 
here. The two whom we had disposed of had been so 
fully armed that I concluded a large number of their 
tribe was near, such as could only be called out by an 
important enterprise, and it occurred to me that this 
undertaking might be revenge for our rescue of the 
train. 

“ What shall we do ? ” asked Harry. “ This new 
trail leads to our camp, which we mustn’t expose to dis- 
covery. Shall we follow that one going there, or keep 
on with the big trail ? ” 

“ This fourfold trail leads to the redskins’ camp, who 


PA RAN OH COMES TO LIFE AGAIN. 


121 


have hidden, of course, to wait the return of their spies. 
Before all things we must seek that out to find out their 
number, and intentions. The entrance to our little 
stronghold is guarded by a sentinel, who will do his 
utmost to keep our secret, and we must leave it to him.” 

“You are right; let us go on.” 

The woods extended from the height in which the 
valley began, considerable distance in the plain, and 
was cut through with deep, rocky furrows, in which 
grew ferns, and wild berry vines. As we approached 
one of these depressions I noticed a smell of something 
burning, and looking sharply for its cause, discovered 
a thin cloud of smoke rising from the crown of trees 
on the edge, and which was often interrupted, or en- 
tirely disappeared in fluttering pennons. This smoke 
could only come from an Indian fire, for while the 
whites throw their wood on the flames in its full length, 
thus getting a broad, high flame which makes a smoke 
that often betrays them, the savage uses only the ends 
of chopped wood, and gets a little flame, with scarcely 
perceptible smoke. Winnetou used to say that “ the 
white man made his fire so hot that he could not sit by 
ft to get warm.” 

I held Harry hack, and hade him hide behind a hush 
while I took a peep at these people. 

“ Why shouldn’t I go too ? ” he demanded. 

“ One is enough, and two doubles the risk of dis- 
covery.” 

He nodded assent, and slipped cautiously into his 
hiding-place, while I, keeping concealed from tree to 
tree, crawled up to the furrow whence the smoke had 
come. Sitting, or rather lying on the ground, closely 
huddled together, was such a crowd of Indians that the 


122 PARAMOH COMES TO LIRE AG AIM. 


eye could scarcely penetrate its masses. At the exit of 
the camp were sentinels, perfectly unconscious of my 
proximity. I tried to count them, and had run my eye 
over half of them, when I stopped in utter amazement. 
Nearest to the fire sat — could it be possible ? — the 
white chief Paranoh, Tim Finnerty ! I had seen his 
face so plainly by the light of the moon on the night 
when I thought I killed him, that I could not be mis- 
taken, and yet I could not trust my eyes, for the scalp 
lock which I knew was hanging on Winnetou’s belt ap- 
parently was back again on his head. 

The sentinel who stood nearest me turned toward the 
place where I lay concealed, so I slipped back, signalled 
Harry to follow me, and returned to the place where the 
trail divided. From here we followed the new tracks 
which led through the thickest growth of foliage 
straight to the valley. It was clear to me now that the 
Poncas had been reinforced and were following up step 
by step for revenge. Our delay during Old Firehand’s 
illness had given them time to call together all their 
available force. But why they had gathered such a 
force against three, why they had not fallen upon us 
long ago, instead of letting us withdraw peacefully I 
could not understand, unless Paranoh knew of the trap- 
per colony, and meant to destroy it. There was no 
trouble in keeping this trail, and we made good time 
into the valley. We met Sam Hawkins near its en- 
trance, and when I told him what I had seen, he shook 
his head dubiously. “ It will cost powder, my boy; 
much powder. I came along with my pelts to the 
brook, and I plainly saw two redskins spying around 
the edge of the bushes, scarcely eight feet away. I got 
under cover, and let them go ahead, one up and one 


PARA NO H COMPS TO LIFE AGAIN. 123 


down the valley. 1 bet they got a warm reception. 
I’ve been waiting here ever since to ask them, politely, 
what they had seen.” 

“ Do you think they will come hack this way ? ” 

“ Sure. If you want to be sly you’ll go over to the 
other side, so we can catch them between us.” 

I followed this suggestion, and Harry and I took up 
our position directly opposite to Sam, and waited the 
return of the Indian spies. Our patience was well 
tested. Fully an hour passed before we heard the soft 
fall of a gliding step. It was a weather-beaten fellow, 
who could scarcely find room at his belt for the scalps 
he carried. As soon as he was within reach I sprang 
out, and settled him, as we did his companion who ap- 
peared shortly, and then we returned to the village. 

Old Firehand heard my story to the end in silence, 
but when I told him of Paranoh an exclamation of sur- 
prise, and of joy too, escaped him. “ Is it possible you 
weren’t mistaken ? ” he asked. 

“ Only his hair makes me doubtful.” 

“ Oh, that proves nothing. Sam Hawkins is an ex- 
ample of a man’s living through scalping, and it’s quite 
possible your aim was not quite true that night. His 
people found him, and took him away. While I was 
recovering, he was getting well too, and he has watched 
us, and followed us. Are you tired, J ack ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ I must see the man myself; will you go with me ? ” 

“ Of course I will, only I must remind you of the 
danger in going. The Indians after waiting in vain for 
their spies to return, will come out to look for them. 
We may be cut off from our own people.” 

“ It’s possible, but I can’t wait here quietly till they 


124 PA RA NOB COMES TO LIFE AG AIM. 


find us. Dick Stone, get your gun; we’re going to 
look for redskins. Harry, stay with Will Parker, and 
look after the guns while we’re gone.” 

Harry begged to be allowed to go with us, but his 
father would not hear of it, and we set out through the 
bed of the brook. Winnetou had left the camp shortly 
after our early start for the traps, and had not returned. 
He would have been the most welcome addition to our 
party of three, and I could not help feeling a little 
anxious about him, for he too might have encountered 
the Indians, and alone. Even as I was thus meditating 
a bush in front of us parted, and the Apache stood 
before us. Our hands, which at the first rustle of the 
branches had sought our weapons, relaxed as we heard 
him say: “ Winnetou will go with his brothers to look 
for Paranoh and the Poncas.” We looked at him in 
surprise. 

“ Has my brother seen the warriors in their camp ? ” 
I asked. 

“ Winnetou must watch over his brother, Old Shat- 
terhand, and over the son of Ribanna,” he replied. 
“ He went behind them, and saw their knives pierce the 
hearts of the red warriors. Paranoh has taken for his 
own the hair of a son of the Osages. His hair is a lie, 
and his thoughts are full of falsehood.” 

I scarcely heard his last words, for at that very mo- 
ment I saw two eyes gleaming behind the bushes, and 
with a quick spring had seized the man to whom they 
belonged. It was he whom we sought — Paranoh ! As 
I tightened my fingers around his throat there was a 
rustle on both sides, and a band of Indians sprang out 
to help their chief. My friends had seen my move- 
ment, and were ready for my assailants. I had the 


PA RAN OH COMES TO LIFE AGAIN . 1 25 


white chief down with my knee on his breast, the 
fingers of my left hand around his neck, and the right 
holding his hand which had seized his knife. He 
squirmed under me like a worm, trying to throw me off. 
Bracing his feet, he tried to raise himself ; his long 
false scalp lock lay beneath him, and his bloodshot 
eyes rolled in their sockets; he foamed at the mouth 
with rage, and the head stripped by Winnetou’s knife 
swelled and pulsated with his struggles. I felt as 
though I had a raging beast under me, and choked 
him till he drew himself together convulsively, his 
head dropped, his eyes closed, with one last shudder 
his limbs stretched out — he was conquered. 

Rising, I looked around upon a scene that no pen 
could ever describe. Hone of the combatants had any 
other weapon than a knife or tomahawk, except Dick 
Stone. Hot a man stood upright, but all were strug- 
gling and twisting on the ground in his own blood, or 
his opponent’s. Winnetou was about to plunge his 
knife into a foe whom he had overcome, and did not 
need me. Old Firehand lay on one of his assailants, try- 
ing to keep off a second who had wounded him in the 
arm. I hastened to his assistance, and knocked the 
Indian down with his own tomahawk, which he had 
dropped. Then I went to Dick Stone, who lay between 
two dead Indians under a gigantic man who was striv- 
ing with all his might to deal him a fatal blow. He 
did not succeed; his comrade’s tomahawk, which I 
had just used, put an end to his attempt. Stone arose, 
and straightened himself. “ By George, that was help 
at the right time; three against one is tough. Much 
obliged.” 

Old Firehand too stretched out his hand to me, and 


126 PA KANO H COMES TO LIFE AGAIN. 


was about to speak when he discovered Paranoh. “ Tim 
Finnerty ! Is it possible ? Who did him up ? ” he 
exclaimed. 

Winnetou answered for me: “ Old Shatterhand over- 
came him. The Great Spirit has given him the strength 
of the buffalo that ploughs the earth with his horns. But 
Paranoh’s people will come after him, and my brothers 
must quickly follow Winnetou to the valley.” 

“ He’s right,” said Old Firehand, from whose arm the 
blood was streaming. “ But we must first remove the 
traces of this fight. Go ahead, Dick, and see we’re not 
surprised.” 

“ I will, only take this knife out of my flesh first, will 
you ? I can’t do much with this thing in me.” One 
of his foes had stabbed him, and during the struggle the 
blade had been driven farther in. Fortunately it was 
not in a dangerous spot, and when it was withdrawn left 
a wound that to Dick’s cast-iron constitution was a 
mere trifle. 

“ How shall we take our prisoner away ? ” asked Old 
Firehand after we had done what was necessary, and 
recalled Dick. 

“ That’s simple enough,” said Stone. He cut off a 
quantity of withes from *the roots near us, took off Para- 
noh’s coat, cut it into strips, and nodding to us with 
satisfaction, said: “ Make a drag, and bind the darling 
on it fast, and haul him along.” 

We followed his suggestion, and soon were under 
way, Winnetou coming behind to remove the broad 
track this invention left. Yet though we reached the 
valley safely, and with Old Firehand’s mortal foe a 
prisoner in our hands, we felt, Winnetou and I at least, 
that we had not seen the last of our enemies the Poncas. 


CHAPTEK X. 


A DOUBLE CAPTURE AND A DOUBLE RESCUE. 

Eakly the following morning, when I went out to 
give Swallow my usual greeting, I found all my friends 
discussing the place and manner of Paranoh’s execu- 
tion. With a sense of dramatic fitness. Old Firehand 
wanted to take him to Bee Fork, where his wife and 
baby had been murdered, and put him to death there. 
It seemed to me the risk of being overtaken by the Pon- 
cas which they would incur in going so far, and delay- 
ing so long, was not worth running. I saw that Win- 
netou agreed with me, but Harry fiercely opposed my 
counsel, and prevailed with his father, whose wishes 
coincided with the boy’s. The result was that the little 
band set forth, and I, who refused to have anything to 
do with this expedition, because they meant to torture 
the criminal, remained behind in charge of the valley. 
Winnetou went with the others, chiefly to protect 
Harry. 

Only a few of the trappers stayed at home, among 
them Dick Stone. The sentinel assured me he had seen 
no sign of danger, but I had learned to trust only my 
own eyes, and I searched the place thoroughly for a 
trace of an Indian. Just at the entrance to our valley 
I noticed some broken twigs, and on close exam- 
ination saw that a man had lain here. Some one 
127 


128 A DOUBLE CAPTURE AND A DOUBLE RESCUE . 

had spied upon us then, and any moment might 
bring an attack. And there was another danger. 
He might have seen Paranoh and his escort go 
away, and it was important above all things to warn 
Old Firehand. Consequently, when I had told our sen- 
tinel of my discovery, I set out upon the trail of my 
friends. I had not gone far before I came on a second 
trail, coming sidewise from the bushes, and leading in 
the direction of Bee Fork. I followed it as cautiously 
as possible, yet so rapidly that I was not long reaching 
the spot where the waters of the Bee Fork flow into the 
river. As I did not know the place where the execu- 
tion was to be I had to redouble my caution. The trail 
led me around a bend of the river, and I saw a clearing, 
in the middle of which was a group of fir balsams under 
whose branches sat the trappers in lively discussion, 
while the prisoner was bound to the trunk of one of the 
trees. Directly before me, at the most eighteen feet 
distant, lay a small band of Indians, and I saw in a mo- 
ment that the rest had gone around to the right and 
left to attack my friends from three sides, and drive 
them into the river. There was not a moment to lose. 
I pressed the trigger of my rifle. For the first few sec- 
onds my shots were the only sound, for friends and foes 
were equally surprised by the unexpected thwarting of 
their plans. But immediately the war-cry of the In- 
dians arose behind each bush, and the clearing was 
full of howling, shrieking, panting men, struggling 
in a mad hand-to-hand conflict. 

I had sprung out at the same time the Indians had, 
and was just in time to save Harry from an Indian who 
had attacked him as he was about to shoot Paranoh. 
The trappers stood with their backs against the trees, 


A DOUBLE CAPTURE AND A DOUBLE RESCUE. I2g 

and were defending themselves desperately. They were 
seasoned men, who had fought many a hard fight, and 
did not know fear, but it was plain that the superior 
force must prevail. One of the Indians had at once 
freed Paranoh. lie swung his arms around his head 
to set the blood in motion, snatched a tomahawk from 
one of his followers, and growled as he rushed at Win- 
netou: “ Come, you dog of a Pimo. You shall now pay 
for my scalp.” The Apache, hearing himself saluted by 
the nickname of his tribe, stopped, but he was already 
wounded, and was threatened at the same time from 
the other side. Old Firehand was surrounded by ene- 
mies, and we others were so hard pressed that we could 
not help. Longer resistance in this case were the 
greatest folly. Therefore I cried, as I seized Harry in 
my arms: “ Into the water, men, into the water,” and 
set the example myself. 

My voice was heard above the din of combat, and 
those who could obeyed it. Though the Fork was deep, 
it was so small that only a few strokes were necessary to 
reach the other shore, but of course we were not safe 
there long, and my object was to cross the point, and 
swim over the big river. 

I signalled to Harry to do this just as Sam Hawkins’ 
little figure appeared, and started for the willows with 
the same end in view. But Harry held back, crying in 
anguish: “ Father, father ! I must go to him. I can’t 
leave him.” 

“Come,” I said, forcing him onward. “We can’t 
save him if he has not already saved himself.” 

We rushed on through thick and thin to reach the 
camp as soon as possible. Only a part of the Indian 
force had been at Bee Fork, and since we had been dis- 


130 A DOUBLE CAPTURE AND A DO UBLE RESCUE. 

covered, and spied upon in our stronghold, it was likely 
that those we had left behind had also been attacked. 

We had made considerable of the distance when we 
heard a shot in the direction of the valley. In a mo- 
ment it was repeated, then several shots rang out; there 
was no doubt that the trappers left behind were fight- 
ing the Indians. We pressed forward eagerly to help 
them, and in spite of the obstacles in our path, reached 
the valley in a short time. We stopped at the point 
overlooking the entrance, where I had discovered the 
Indians’ trail. They lay hidden in the edge of the 
woods, besieging the water gate from there, and to get 
any result we must go around behind them. Just then 
we heard a rustling as though some one were rush- 
ing through the bushes. At a sign from me we all hid 
behind the thick foliage of a shrub, and waited the ap- 
pearance of the new-comers. How great was our de- 
light as Old Firehand, followed by Winnetou and two 
trappers, came in sight ! They also had escaped, and 
Harry showed his joy in this meeting in a way to prove 
to me that he had more heart than I had credited him 
with. 

“ Did you hear the shots ? ” demanded Old Firehand 
hastily. 

“ Yes.” 

“ Come then. We must help our folks, for though 
the entrance is so small that one man can guard it, we 
don’t know what may have happened.” 

“ My white brothers may stay here. Winnetou will 
go to see on which tree the scalps of the Poncas 
hang.” Without waiting for an answer to this propo- 
sition the Apache went away, and there was nothing 
for us to do but await his return, during which time 


A DO UBLE CA P PURE AND A DO UBLE RESCUE. 1 3 1 

two more of our people joined us, drawn hither by the 
shots, as we had been. 

A long time passed before Winnetou returned, but 
when he came we saw that he had a fresh scalp at his 
belt; he had surprised an Indian, and we could no 
longer stay where we were, for when the Poncas dis- 
covered the death of their comrade they would know 
that we were behind them. We followed Old Firehand’s 
suggestion, and formed in a line parallel to the edge of 
the bushes, to attack our foes from the rear. We made 
our guns, which were wet from their bath, ready for use, 
and having come into position, at a signal, one after an- 
other, the nine guns rattled. Each shot found its man, 
and -a howl of surprise and terror filled the air. Our 
line was so stretched out, and our shots followed one an- 
other so fast that the savages thought our number 
greater than it was, and took to flight. 

Victorious we returned home, and made ready for 
further developments. One of -the trappers was sta- 
tioned as sentinel, the others attended to their wounds, 
and settled down to supper and rest. Gathered around 
the fire each one had to recount his experience during 
the trying day, and all rejoiced that the Indians had 
been driven off, and had abandoned the assault. Even 
Old Firehand shared this opinion; only Winnetou dis- 
sented from it. He lay by his horse, a little at one side, 
and seemed sunken in profound thought. 

“ The eyes of my red friend are gloomy, and his brow 
bears the mark of care. What are the thoughts of his 
heart ? 99 I asked, going over to him. 

“ The Apache chief sees death coming through the 
gate, and ruin descending from the hills. The valley 
is* red with the flames of fire, and the water is crimson 


132 A DOUBLE CAB TUBE AND A DOUBLE RESCUE. 

with the blood of the slain. Winnetou speaks with the 
Great Spirit. The eyes of the pale-faces are blinded by 
hate, and their wisdom has disappeared in their desire 
for revenge. Paranoh will come, and take the scalps of 
the hunters, but Winnetou is girded for combat, and 
will raise the death song over the bodies of his foes.” 

No one seemed impressed by this prophecy, though I 
had long since learned to trust Winnetou’s foresight. 
As evening came on, however, our precautions were 
doubled, and at my request I was put on guard just be- 
fore dawn, the time when the attack was most likely to 
be made. Night rested calm and still over the val- 
ley, and the fire threw its quivering light around us. 
Swallow, who was allowed to roam at will in the hill- 
locked pasture, was out of sight; I went to look him 
up, and found him quite at the fo’ot of the hills. 
After we had greeted each other as affectionately as 
usual, I went on still further, for a faint, falling sound 
made me listen. The horse too raised his head, and 
as the least breath might betray us, I laid my hand over 
his spreading nostrils. I listened, but beyond that fall 
of a stone there was nothing stirring. Perhaps some 
one besides myself had noticed that, and waited to be 
sure it had not been heard. This theory was the right 
one, for after a long time I saw several figures rise from 
the dark rocks, and descend beneath them, and soon I 
saw a number of Indians coming over the brow of the 
hill, one behind another, following their leader with 
cautious steps. In a few moments they would be in 
the valley. If I had had my Henry rifle I could have 
given the alarm, and made an end of Paranoh, who was 
the leader, but unfortunately I had only my revolver 
in my belt, and it was no good for long range. Just 


A DOUBLE CAPTURE AND A DOUBLE RESCUE. 1 33 

then I heard a shot at’ the entrance of the valley, 
quickly followed by more, and I saw at once that the 
Indians were feigning an attack at that point to call our 
attention from the real source of danger. I sprang up 
the hill to get at Paranoh, and was so near that I could 
almost touch him, when the mass of stone beneath me 
gave way, and I fell from rock to rock, from ridge to 
ridge, all the way down, and for a moment lost con- 
sciousness. When I could collect myself, and open my 
eyes I saw three Indians only a feet away from me, and 
jumping up, though I was fearfully bruised and shaken, 
I fired my revolver at them, sprang on Swallow, and tore 
back to the fire. 

The Poncas, who now saw that their plan was discov- 
ered, raised their war-cry, and pursued me. 

I found our camping place deserted; the men had 
gathered at the entrance, hut had turned back at the 
sound of my shots. 

“ To the heights,” I shouted. “ The Indians are in- 
side.” 

It was the only hope of deliverance, but it was too 
late. Hardly had I spoken when we were surrounded. It 
was a wild, a horrible struggle, such as no imagination 
can paint. The half extinguished fire threw its flicker- 
ing light over the foreground of the valley, in which 
groups of men were fighting like demons. Through 
the howls of the Indians rose the trappers’ cries of en- 
couragement, and the short, sharp crack of revolver 
shots, while the earth seemed to tremble under the feet 
of the combatants. 

There was no doubt that we were lost. There was 
no possibility of anything favorable to us happening, 
and we felt our moments were numbered. But we 


134 A DOUBLE CAPTURE AND A DOUBLE RESCUE. 

would not die like sheep; we wouM defend ourselves to 
the last, and with that coolness which gives the civi- 
lized man such an advantage over the savage. 

I thought of the dear ones at home, to whom I should 
never return, hut I put the thought away, for it would 
not do to think of anything that would make me falter. 
I tried ta ask God to have mercy on my soul, and looked 
anxiously to see how many of my friends were still on 
their feet. Scarcely two paces from me on my right 
was Old Firehand. T'he way he fought for his life 
with his foes pressing on him filled me even then with 
wonder. His long gray hair hung in matted locks over 
his shoulders, his extended legs seemed rooted in the 
ground, and with a heavy tomahawk in one hand, and 
a sharp knife in the other, he held at bay the force 
pressing on him. He had more wounds than I, hut 
none had brought him down, and once more I admired 
his tall, erect figure. 

Just then Paranoh appeared, forcing his way to us. 
As soon as he saw Old Firehand, he cried: “ At last 
I’ve got you ! Think of Ribanna, and die.” 

He pushed by me, hut I seized him by the shoulder, 
and prevented the deadly blow he was about to inflict. 

“You too ?” he cried. “ Fll have you alive. Give 
him a lariat.” 

Springing past me before I could again raise my 
tomahawk, he drew his pistol; the shot whizzed by 
me. 

Old Firehand threw up his arms, sprang forward con- 
vulsively, and fell without a sound. I felt as though 
the bullet had entered my own breast as I saw the hero 
fall. I knocked down the Indian who was attacking 
me, and was about to fall on Paranoh, when I saw a 


A DO UBLE CAPTURE AND A DO UBLE RESCUE. 1 3 5 

dark form forcing its way through the enemy, and raise 
its supple arms in front of the murderer. “ Where is 
the crow of Atabaskah ? Here stands Winnetou, the 
chief of the Apaches, to avenge his white brother/’ 

“ Ah, you Pimo ! I’ll settle you ! ” Paranoh cried, 
but I heard no more. I had been too interested in the 
scene to remember myself. A lasso fell over my neck, 
and at the same time I felt a tremendous blow on my 
head, and lost consciousness. When I came to myself 
it was perfectly dark and still around me. A burning 
pain in my head at last recalled to me the blow I had 
received, and all that had preceded it. I thought I 
heard some one breathing beside me. 

* “ Is any one here ? ” I asked. 

“ Well, yes; the man asks as if Sam Hawkins was 
nobody.” 

“ Is it you, Sam ? Where in the world are we ? ” 

“ Under shelter, boy. They have stuck us in this 
hole where we buried the skins. Lucky thing we re- 
moved them ! At least they haven’t found those.” 

“ And how about the others ? ” 

“ Old Firehand is dead, Dick Stone is dead, Will 
Parker is dead. All are gone, but you and Winnetou, 
and the little fellow is half alive, and Sam Hawkins is 
not quite done for.” 

“ Are you certain that Harry is alive, Sam ? ” 

“ Do you suppose an old scalper doesn’t know what he 
sees, man ? They have stuck him in another hole be- 
side us with your red friend. They are lovely people 
these Poncas, sweet things ! They have taken every- 
thing away from this old ’coon, everything; pistol, pipe, 
and Liddy’s gone up the spout — poor Liddy — but I 
kept my knife; stuck it up my sleeve.” 


136 A DOUBLE CAPTURE AND A DOUBLE RESCUE. 

“ You. have your knife still ? ” I cried. “ Yet what 
good can it do ? 99 

“We’ll see. We might wriggle along by rocking 
ourselves till we got together.” 

We tried this experiment, and it was successful. Al- 
though my hands were bound, I managed to pull the 
knife down from Sam’s sleeve, and cut the ropes on his 
arms with it. Sam’s hands being free the rest was sim- 
ple, and in a few moments we stood erect, free in every 
limb. 

“ That’s a brilliant stroke, Sam Hawkins. You seem 
to me not such a bad fellow,” said the little man, figur- 
atively patting himself on the back. 

“ Now the first thing is to see our surroundings, Sam, 
and get weapons,” I said. We went to the door, and 
drew aside the skins which curtained it. 

“ Do you see something. Master Jack ? ” whispered 
Sam. “ As sure as I’m alive that thing leaning against 
the stone there is my Liddy ! ” 

I was so glad to see Swallow standing near, safe and 
sound with Winnetou’s horse, and Paranoh’s chestnut, 
that at first I could hardly enter into the little man’s 

joy. 

“ Sam, can you be depended upon ? ” I whispered. 

“ I don’t know who knows that if you don’t.” 

“ You go to the right, and I will go to the left. Then 
cut Winnetou’s and Harry’s bonds quick. Are you 
ready ? ” 

He nodded, with an expression on his face that prom- 
ised success. “ Now then.” 

We glided behind the two Indians guarding the pris- 
oners, and came up to them unobserved. Sam stabbed 
one with such sure aim that he sank without a sound. 


A D 0 UBLE CA P TURE A ND A DO UBLE RESCUE . 1 3 7 

I, being unarmed, had to first snatch the other one’s 
knife, but seized his throat as I did it, and the cry he 
would have uttered died out in a faint gurgle. A few 
rapid cuts freed the prisoners. 

“ Here, take weapons,” I cried, seeing escape was 
impossible without them, and forcing the gun of the 
Indian I had killed into Winnetou’s hands. 

“ Swallow, Swallow,” I called, and the horse obeyed 
my voice. In an instant I was on his back, saw Winne- 
tou mount his own, and Sam take Paranoh’s. 

“ Come here quick in heaven’s name,” I cried to 
Harry, who had started after a horse. I seized his arm, 
swung him over my saddle, and turned toward the gate 
of the valley through which Sam had already disappeared. 

It was a moment of the wildest excitement. Howls 
of rage filled the air, shots rattled, arrows whizzed 
around us, and through it all echoed the neighing of 
the horses on which the savages threw themselves. I 
was the last of the three, and could never say how I 
came through the narrow, winding pass without being 
overtaken by the enemy. Just as we were about to go 
around the bend a shot rattled behind us, and I felt 
Harry droop. He was wounded. “ Swallow, my Swal- 
low, go on,” I urged the beast in anguish, and just as 
he had borne me away from New Venango, he now 
rushed onward. 

The warm blood ran from Harry’s wound over the 
hand with which I held him. “ Can you hold out the 
rest of the way ? ” I asked. 

“ I hope so.” 

Again I urged the horse onward. He proved worthy 
of his name, for he skimmed on like a swallow, his. feet 
scarcely seeming to touch the ground. As I looked 


I38 A DOUBLE CAPTURE AND A DOUBLE RESCUE. 

around I saw Paranoh close behind me, and even in that 
brief glance could distinguish the mad fury with which 
he pursued us, and redoubled my calls to the brave 
horse, on whose speed and endurance everything hung. 
Suddenly I saw Winnetou dismount, and take his stand 
behind his horse, as he loaded his captured gun. I fol- 
lowed his example, and laid Harry in the grass. There 
was no time for me to load, for Paranoh was too near, 
so I seized my tomahawk. Our pursuer marked our 
motions, but carried away with rage rushed on me, 
swinging his tomahawk. Then Winnetou’s shot rang 
out. Our foe drew himself together convulsively, and 
fell from his horse. Winnetou turned over the lifeless 
body with his foot, saying: “ The snake of Atabaskah 
will sting no more, nor call the Apache chief a Pimo. 
My brother may take back his weapons.” 

True enough; “ the snake ” carried my knife, toma- 
hawk, revolver, and Henry rifle, and Winnetou’s silver 
studded rifle hung at his saddle. 

We resumed our property, and with Harry in my 
arms I once more remounted Swallow, while Winnetou 
sprang upon his chestnut. We did not relax our speed, 
and after a time all our pursuers were left behind us. 
The day was won. 

As soon as possible we returned to the valley. We 
found Sam Hawkins there before us, and the anxiety 
I had felt for him was set at rest. One more joy 
awaited us as the crown of that crowded day. Winne- 
tou went over to where Harry knelt by his father’s body. 
The weeping boy held his father’s head on his breast 
while the Apache examined the wound. Just as I came 
over to them I heard Winnetou exclaim: “ Uff, uff, uff ! 
He is not dead; he lives ! ” 


CHAPTER XI. 


A TRADER IN COUNTERFEITS. 

Three months passed in quiet and the effort to re- 
cover lost ground after the events set down in the last 
chapter. 

The hope of saving Old Firehand which Winnetou’s 
words had awakened, was fulfilled, hut his conva- 
lescence was very slow; even at the end of this long 
time he was not able to stand. Harry’s injury proved 
trifling; Winnetou was wounded in many places, 
though not dangerously, while my wounds did not 
bother me much, for I was getting as hardened to pain 
as an Indian. Sam had come out best of all, but the 
grief of the faithful little man over the loss of his com- 
rades Dick and Will counted for more than mere phys- 
ical pain. 

It had been decided that as soon as Old Firehand 
was well enough for the journey he should settle down 
in the East with Harry, for he was too old a man ever 
to recover sufficient strength to resume his life of a 
trapper. Harry too would be better off where he could 
be properly trained and educated. But in order to do 
this he must first dispose of a quantity of skins which 
he had accumulated, and we were at loss how to bring 
it about, when we opportunely heard of a trader beyond 
the hills who would probably buy them. 

The next difficulty was how to get at this man, which 
139 


140 


A TRADER IN COUNTERFEITS. 


I solved by offering to go for him, and Winnetou in- 
sisted on accompanying me, for the region through 
which I must pass was infested with hostile Indians. 
It was the third day after our departure when we 
reached that part of the country where he would he 
likely to be met with. Should we find him ? If he 
were among the Indians we must be extremely cautious, 
but there were also white settlers’ houses scattered along 
at intervals through this region, and we determined to 
try to discover one of these, and there ask for informa- 
tion of our trader. 

Just as it was getting toward night, and we were be- 
ginning to give up hope of a. house that day, we saw a 
field of rye, surrounded by other fields of grain. Be- 
side a brook whose waters flowed into a river, rose a 
strong, rough block house, with a garden enclosed by a 
stout fence, and an enclosed clearing where horses and 
cows were grazing. 

We turned in here, dismounted, tied our horses, and 
went toward the house, which had little gun hole win- 
dows. From two of these we saw double-barrelled 
guns pointed at us, and a harsh voice called out: 
“ Stop ! Stay where you are. This is no inn; what 
do you want ? ” 

“ We come from Old Firehand, and we want to know 
where we can find a certain trader.” 

“ Go look for him. You’ve got an Indian with you, 
and in these times no one lets in people of that color.” 

“ You’d be honored by a visit from this Indian; he 
is Winnetou, the Apache chief.” 

“ You don’t say so ! I wonder if that’s so ! In that 
case you must be Old Shatterhand.” 

“ That’s precisely who I am.” 


A TRADER IN COUNTERFEITS. 141 

“ Then come in, quick. Such people as you are most 
welcome. You shall have everything you want if I 
can give it to you.” 

The guns were withdrawn, and the settler appeared 
in a moment at the door. He was a big-boned, strong 
old man, who, one could easily see, had found life a 
struggle. He shook hands heartily, and led us into the 
house where his wife and two sons were sitting. “ You 
mustn’t take it ill that I spoke somewhat roughly at first. 
We have to he on the lookout for Indians, and few 
white men come here who haven’t been driven out of 
the East. But this makes us all the more glad to see 
the other sort. So you’re after a trader ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Do you want to do business with him ? ” 

“ Yes; I want to sell a lot of skins to him for cash.” 

“ Well, I know the man, and the only one here- 
abouts.” 

“ Is he honest ? ” 

“ Oh, honest ! What do you call honest ? He’s in 
business for what he can make; if you let him get the 
best of you it’s your own fault. He’s called Burton, 
and has four or five agents. One of ’em’s staying here 
to-night; he’ll be here soon. His name’s Davis. 
Hark ! I hear some one now.” 

A horse’s hoofs sounded outside, and our host went 
out to meet the new-comer, with whom he presently re- 
turned. “ This is Mr. Davis, who, as I told you, is 
Burton’s agent,” he said. 

The trader was a middle-aged man of ordinary ap- 
pearance with nothing striking about him either in a 
good or a bad sense, yet I did not quite like the expres- 
sion with which he looked at us. He did not seem as 


142 


A TRADER IN COUNTERFEITS. 


glad to see us as he should be, considering the profit 
likely to be derived through meeting us. He had as 
good a supper set before him as we had already done 
justice to, but he did not seem very hungry, and soon 
rose from the table, and went out to look after his 
horse. I cannot call it exactly mistrust, but it was 
something very like it that made me follow him. His 
horse was tied in front of the house, but he was nowhere 
to be seen. After a long time I saw him coming around 
the corner of the fence, and when he saw me he stood 
still for a moment, and then came toward me quickly. 

“ You like moonlight walks, Mr. Davis ? ” I asked. 

“ Ho; I’m not so romantic,” he replied. 

“ Yet you go rambling off alone.” 

“ But not for love of the moon. I don’t feel just 
right; I’ve had indigestion all day, and long sitting in 
the saddle has made it worse. I had to move around a 
little.” 

He untied his horse, and led him into the enclosure 
with ours, and then joined us in the house. He was his 
own master, and why should I bother about what he 
did ? Still, the reason he had given me for his moon- 
light promenade was rather flimsy. 

We discussed business until we went to bed, and he 
showed such knowledge of skins, and seemed so square 
that even Winnetou approved him, and talked to him 
more than was his wont with strangers. It was ar- 
ranged that he was to go with us in the morning to look 
at the skins, and estimate their value. 

We set out in the early dawn, and Davis fell behind 
us like a footman, which we thought rather queer, but 
we were glad to have him do so, as it left us free to talk 
without restraint. We went back the way we came. 


A TRADER IN CO UNI'ERFEITS. 1 43 

but although we knew the region perfectly, we had to 
keep a sharp lookout for the trails of men and beasts, 
either of which might prove dangerous. It was owing 
to this that we fell on a trail that otherwise might have 
escaped us, for great pains had apparently been taken to 
conceal it. While we were examining it Davis came up, 
and also sprang from his saddle. 

“ Is this an animal’s, or a man’s trail ? ” he asked. 

Winnetou did not answer, so I said: “ You can’t have 
had much experience in reading such records, or one 
glance would have answered your question. It is the 
trail of men.” 

“ I should think it would be plainer if there were 
horses.” 

“ Yes, but there were no horses.” 

“ No horses ! I don’t see how a man who wasn’t 
mounted could exist in this region.” 

“ Did you ever hear of a man’s losing his horse ? ” 

Winnetou cut this conversation short by asking: 
“ Does my brother Old Shatterhand understand what 
this means ? They are three pale-faces without horses; 
they have no guns, but carry sticks. They have gone 
on from here stepping in each other’s footprints, and 
the last one has tried to wipe out the tracks; they seem 
to have feared being followed.” 

“ But isn’t it curious to find unarmed white men here 
in this dangerous section, unless they have been 
robbed ? ” 

“ My white brother has reached my own conclusion. 
These men lean heavily on their sticks; they need 
help.” 

“ Does Winnetou wish to find them ? ” 

“ The chief of the Apaches is glad to help any one 


144 


A TRADER IN COUNTERFEITS. 


who needs him, and never asks whether he is white or 
red. We will go after them.” 

We remounted, but Davis grumbled, saying complain- 
ingly: “ Why shouldn’t we leave these people to, them- 
selves ? It can’t do any good to go after them.” 

“ Not to us, certainly, but it may to them,” I said. 

“ But we waste so much time.” 

“ We’re not so pressed for time that we must refuse 
help when it is required,” I answered sharply. 

Davis muttered something in his beard, and threw 
himself on his horse. I had very little confidence in 
him, but it never occurred to me that he could be the 
wretch he was. 

The trail led us into the open savannah, and soon we 
saw those whom we sought. They stood still when they 
first caught a glimpse of us, as if they were afraid, and 
then ran for their lives. We easily overtook them, be- 
ing mounted, and called out to them reassuringly. 
They were entirely unarmed, and one had his head tied 
up, another carried his arm in a sling; the third was 
uninjured. 

They told us that they had been attacked by Indians 
early in the previous day, had lost their horses, and 
were in constant dread of another meeting with the 
savages. As 'their way lay with ours we proposed that 
they should travel with us, and gave them food, and 
sat down with them while they ate, and rested. 

As they had no horses they would necessarily retard 
our progress, and Davis seemed highly displeased with 
our arrangement, but we did not stop to ask his opinion, 
though his unsympathetic behavior made me dislike 
him more than ever, and watch him more closely. 

The result of this observation was most unexpected* 


A TRADER IN COUNTERFEITS. 


145 


I noticed that when he thought no one saw him a scorn- 
ful smile passed over his face, and he would hastily 
glance at Winnetou and me. I saw too that when he 
caught the eye of one of our new companions a quick 
glance passed between them, and it seemed to me they 
had a secret understanding. Did they know one an- 
other ? Was the trader’s sullen manner merely a 
mask ? What reason could they have for deceiving 
us ? The men we had rescued were certainly under 
obligations to us. Could I he mistaken ? 

The wonderful sympathy, the interchange of thought 
and feeling between me and my Apache brother showed 
itself anew. Even as I was puzzling over this problem, 
Winnetou dismounted, and said to the oldest man, who 
called himself Wharton: "My brother has walked long 
enough; he must take my horse. Old Shatterhand will 
gladly lend his also. We are well, and strong, and can 
easily keep up with the horses.” Wharton protested 
against this kindness, but was none the less glad to ac- 
cept it, and his son took Swallow. Winnetou and I fell 
behind too far to he overheard, and were careful besides 
to use the Apache tongue. “ My brother has given up 
his horse less from compassion than for some other 
reason,” I began. 

" Old Shatterhand has guessed it.” 

“ Have you too been watching these four men ? ” 

"I saw that Old Shatterhand was suspicious, and 
kept my eyes open. I have seen that the strangers are 
not wounded, and as their bandage and sling is a lie, 
so is it a lie that they were attacked by Indians. Does 
my brother Old Shatterhand think that this trader is 
their enemy ? ” 

“ No; he is feigning.” 


146 A TRADER IN COUNTERFEITS. 

“ Yes; I too saw that. He knows them, and perhaps 
belongs with them.” 

“ Shall we tell them to their faces what we think of 
them ? ” 

“ No, for their secret may have some reason that does 
not concern ns. In spite of our mistrust of them these 
four men may be honorable ones. We could not tell 
them that we thought they were bad.” 

“ Sometimes my brother Winnetou shames me. He 
is often more kind and tender-hearted than I am.” 

“ No one should give a man pain unless he deserves 
it. It is better to suffer an injustice than inflict one. 
There can be no motive for Davis to treat us badly, for 
his employer will make a good trade with Old Firehand. 
It may be that they are all traders, and mean to rob us 
after they are in the valley.” 

“ Winnetou has had the same thought I have; I be- 
lieve that is their scheme. We must watch them day 
and night.” 

“Yes, for it is certain their horses are near here. 
Only one of us may sleep; the other must watch, and 
yet not let these people see it.” 

Winnetou’s keenness had discovered the truth, but 
not all of it. Had we guessed it we should hardly have 
remained so cool, and continued to tolerate our com- 
panions. 

We should have preferred camping that night on the 
open prairie, where we could see on all sides, but a 
strong wind arose, bringing rain with it, and we were 
obliged to seek shelter in the woods. 

After we had eaten our supper our companions 
showed no inclination to sleep, but entertained one an- 
other with stories, even Davis becoming talkative, and 


A TRADER IN COUNTERFEITS . 


147 


relating adventures he had met with in his wanderings. 
It struck me there was some object in this sociability; 
was it to distract our attention ? I looked at Winne- 
tou, and saw that he had the same thought, for he had 
laid all his weapons ready to hand, and kept a sharp 
lookout on all sides, though only I, who knew him so 
well, could see it. His lids drooped as though he slept, 
but I saw that he watched everything from under his 
lashes, and I did the same. 

The rain ceased, and the wind died down. We 
lighted no fire, and sat with our faces turned toward 
the woods, whence, if there were an enemy, he would 
come. The slender sickle of the young moon arose, and 
shed its soft light over us through the tree tops. Win- 
netou lay stretched out in the grass, resting on his left 
elbow, his face pillowed in the hollow of his hand. I 
noticed that he slowly drew his right leg nearer his 
body, so that the inside of his knee made an angle. 
Could he be intending a knee shot, the most difficult 
of all shots ? Yes, actually ! He reached for the 
handle of his silver studded rifle, and laid it, as if with 
no special intention, in the angle formed by his knee. 
I followed with my eyes the direction in which it 
pointed, and saw under a bush in front of the fourth 
tree from us a soft phosphorescent light which would 
not have been noticed by a less experienced eye than 
the Apache’s. It was a pair of human eyes watching us 
from the bush. Winnetou meant to shoot between 
them — the only sure place — and with the difficult knee 
shot. A little, little higher and the eyes were within 
range. I waited with strained expectation the next 
moment; Winnetou did not miss his aim, even at night, 
and in this way of shooting. I saw him lay his finger on 


148 


A TRADER IN COUNTERFEITS . 


the trigger, but he did not pull it. He lifted his finger, 
dropped his gun, and stretched his leg out again; the 
eyes had disappeared. 

“ A wise fellow/’ he said to me in Apache. 

“ At least one who knows the knee shot/’ I replied. 

“ He knows also that we saw him.” 

“ Yes; more’s the pity.” 

“ I’ll crawl after him.” 

“ It’s dangerous; let me do it, Winnetou.” 

“ Shall I send you into danger I would avoid myself ? 
My brother may help me get off so the spy will not sus- 
pect I am after him.” 

We waited a while, then I said: “ Would you fellows 
mind keeping quiet ? We start early, and need sleep. 
Did you tie your horse well, Mr. Davis ? ” 

“ Yes,” he replied with a snarl. 

“ Mine is still free,” said Winnetou aloud. “ I will 
tie him now. Shall I tie my brother’s with him ? ” 

“ Yes, if you will,” I answered, as if that were the real 
object of his going. He rose slowly, threw his blanket 
over his shoulder, and went out to where our horses 
were grazing. The interrupted conversation w r as re- 
sumed, at once to my annoyance and satisfaction. I 
could not hear what happened to Winnetou, but on the 
other hand it kept the man he was after from hearing 
him. I dropped my lids, and waited. Five minutes 
passed, ten, a quarter, yes, half an hour. I should have 
been worried about Winnetou, only I knew how long 
such a task as his required. At last I heard a step be- 
hind me in the direction in which he had gone. Turn- 
ing my head a little I saw him coming; the blanket 
still hung over his shoulder, and I hoped he had dealt 
with our hidden foe, I turned my head back, and 


A TRADER IN COUNTERFEITS. 


1 49 


waited for him to take his place again beside me. The 
steps came nearer, paused behind me, and a voice that 
was not Winnetou’s said: “ Now this one.” 

Looking up I saw the blanket indeed, but he who wore 
it was not Winnetou, but a bearded fellow. As he spoke 
he raised the handle of his- gun to strike me. Quick 
as a flash I turned aside, but too late; the blow fell, not 
on my head, but on my neck; a second stroke followed 
on my skull, and I lost consciousness. 

When I came to myself, and with a great effort raised 
my heavy lids, I saw that it was dawn. It seemed to me 
I was dead, and my ghost listened from eternity to the 
speech around my body. I could not understand a 
word until I heard a voice whose tones would have 
waked me if I had really been dead, saying: “ This dog 
of an Apache will say nothing, and I’ve killed the other 
one. What a nuisance ! I meant to have had some 
fun out of him, and teach him what it means to fall 
into my hands.” 

That voice restored me completely. I stared at the 
man, whom I had not recognized in the first glance be- 
cause of the beard he now wore. It was Santer ! 


CHAPTER XII. 


SANTER AGAIN. 

When I grasped the fact that Santer actually stood 
before me I wanted to close my eyes, and let him think 
I was still nnconscions, bnt my lids would not fall. I 
stared at him, unable to take my eyes away, till he saw 
it, and sprang up, crying joyfully: “ He’s alive; he’s 
alive ! ” 

He asked me a question, and as I did not answer it, 
he knelt down, seized me by the nape of the neck, and 
shook me, striking my head hard on the stones. I could 
not defend myself, for I was fastened so that I could 
not move a finger. Then he growled: “ Will you answer 
now, you dog ? I see that you can, and if you don’t. 
I’ll make you.” As he shook me I had seen Winnetou 
lying at one side, fastened together in the form of a 
ring. Such a position would torture an india-rubber 
man; what must he be enduring ? 

I saw besides Santer, only Wharton, his son and 
nephew; Davis had disappeared. “ How will you 
speak ? ” demanded Santer threateningly, “ or shall I 
loose your tongue with my knife ? I will know whether 
you know me, and hear what I say ? ” 

What use was silence ? It could only make matters 
worse. I really did not know whether I could speak or 
not, but I tried, and in a weak voice said: “ I know you; 
you are Santer ” 

“ So you do know me,” he stammered, mocking me. 

150 


SANT£X AGAIN. 


51 


“ Are you very glad to see me ? Are you perfectly en- 
chanted to find me here ? It's a glorious, delicious sur- 
prise for you, now isn’t it ? ” 

I did not answer this malicious question, and he drew 
his knife, set its point at my heart, and threatened: 
“ Will you say yes, a loud yes, this moment, or shall I 
stab you ? ” 

Then Winnetou spoke in spite of his pain: “My 
brother Shatterhand will not say yes; he will rather let 
himself be stabbed.” 

“ Silence, dog,” growled Santer. “ If you say an- 
other word I will draw you up till your bones break. 
Now, Old Shatterhand, you friend whom I love with 
all my heart and soul, aren’t you really overjoyed to see 
me ? ” 

“ Yes,” I answered loudly, in spite of Winnetou’s 
warning. 

“ You hear that ? ” asked Santer triumphantly of the 
other three. “ Old Shatterhand, the famous, invincible 
Old Shatterhand, is so afraid of my knife that he says 
with his feeble tongue he is glad to see me.” 

Whether my previous condition had been less serious 
than it seemed, or whether this man’s jeers effected a 
change in me, I do not know, but my head all at once 
felt as sound as ever, and I said, laughing in his face 
in my turn: “ You are mistaken; I did not say that 
from fear, but because it is the truth. I really am glad 
that at last I see you again.” 

Though I laughed, I spoke so earnestly that he 
stepped back, elevated his brows, looked at me a moment 
searchingly, and then said: “ That blow has shaken up 
your brains so that you are delirious. I might almost 
think the fellow meant that ! ” 


152 


SAN TER AGAIN. 


“ And so I do, entirely.” 

“ Then you. certainly are crazy.” 

“ Not a bit of it; my head was never clearer.” 

“ Then it’s sheer, cursed impudence, and I’ll draw 
you up like your friend, and hang you upside down till 
your veins burst.” 

“ Nonsense ! That’s likely ! In ten minutes I’d be 
dead, and you couldn’t find out what you want to 
know.” 

I saw I had hit the mark. He glanced at the others, 
and said: “We thought this scoundrel was dead, when 
he was not even unconscious. He has heard all the 
questions I asked this cursed redskin, who won’t speak.” 

“ You’re mistaken,” I said. “ I was unconscious, but 
Old Shatterhand has brains enough to see through 
you.” 

“ Is that so ? Then tell me what it is I want of 
you.” 

“ Bosh; drop that child’s play. You won’t find out 
anything. I tell you I am really glad of this meeting. 
We have looked for you long; we can’t help being 
glad. We have you at last, at last, at last.” 

“ Don’t be a fool; you are completely in our power; 
nothing can save you, unless I choose to spare you. It 
may he that I shall, but only in case you give me full 
information. Look at these three men; they belong to 
me. I sent them on to draw you into my trap. What 
do you think I am now ? ” 

What he was I had long known very distinctly, hut 
prudence forbade my answering categorically, so I con- 
tented myself with telling him that he was a scoundrel, 
and always had been. 

“ Good ! ” he remarked. “ I’ll let that insult pass 


SAN TER AGAIN . 


153 


now because my day of reckoning is coming. Now I 
know that you, or rather Old Firehand, have a lot of 
skins for sale. I have seen the settler with whom you 
stayed, and I know all about it. You did not find the 
trader you came to meet, but one of his agents. I came 
after you, and caught you. The trader, who I believe 
calls himself Davis, Fm sorry to say got away.” 

It seemed to me as he said this he glanced at the bush 
where he himself had hidden the night before. It was 
an involuntary glance, and struck me at once. Was 
\ there any connection between Davis and that bush ? 
I must find out, though I could not look that way. He 
continued: “You know me; I know you, and we both 
understand that whoever falls into the other’s hands is 
lost. I have you now, so your life is ended. The only 
question is how it shall end. I had determined to torture 
you as man was never tortured before, but now that I 
intend to discover Old Firehand’s hiding-place, I’m not 
so sure. Tell me where this place is, and describe it to 
me exactly, and you shall have a painless death — a bul- 
let in the head.” 

“ Very lovely ! It’s truly sweet and tender of you, 
but not very wise.” 

“ Why ? ” 

“We might describe the wrong place, to earn this 
quick death.” 

“ I’m not so short-sighted as you think. I know how 
to test your information. But first I must know 
whether you will betray the place ? ” 

“ Betray is the right word, but you ought to know 
that Old Shatterhand is no traitor. I see that Winne- 
tou has failed you; probably he has not answered you 
at all, for he is far too proud to talk to such a cur as 


154 


SANTMti AGAIN \ 


you. I have spoken to you, however, for my own 
reasons.” 

“ And you will tell me nothing ? ” 

“ Not a word.” 

“ Then we’ll fasten you in a ring, like Winnetou.” 

“ Do it.” 

“ And torture you to death.” 

“ Which will do you no good.” 

“ You think so ? I tell you I will find that place in 
any case.” 

“ Possibly, by some blind chance, but too late even 
if you do, for if we are not back at a certain time Old 
Firehand will remove the skins to a place of safety; we 
arranged that before we started.” 

He looked down darkly and reflectively, playing with 
his knife. I saw through his double plan. The first 
half had miscarried; he must now fall back on the sec- 
ond part of the programme. At last he raised his head 
and said: “ So, if you’ll not do what I wish I will force 
you to it. We’ll see if your limbs are as insensible as 
the Apache’s.” He signalled to the other three, who 
seized me, and carried me over by Winnetou. This 
gave me a chance to see the bush at which Santer had 
glanced. My suspicion was right; a man was hidden 
there. He raised his head to see what was to be done 
with me, and I thought I recognized Davis. 

It is useless to dwell on the next three hours, during 
which I was bound into a ring, and Winnetou and I 
suffered side by side without speaking, or allowing our 
tormentors to hear a sigh. Every fifteen minutes San- 
ter came, and asked if we would do what he wished, but 
he received no answer. It was a question of which 
would hold out longer, he or we. It was a little after 


SAN TEA AGAIN. 155 

mid-day that having again questioned us, Santer sat 
down with his comrades, and discussed something in a 
low tone. In a few minutes he said quite loudly: "I 
too believe that he is hidden somewhere about here, be- 
cause he didn’t get his horse when he escaped. Look 
all around carefully; I’ll stay here with the prisoners.” 

Even if I had not known this was a farce, the loud 
tone in which he spoke would have shown it. As a 
rule one does not announce to a man that he is to be 
captured. 

The three took their weapons, and withdrew. Win- 
netou whispered to me softly: “ Does my brother know 
what is to happen ? ” 

“ Yes; they’re going to capture Davis, and bring him 
here. Then they’ll be very much surprised to find he is 
a friend of SanteEs.” 

“ Yes, and Davis will plead for us, and get our free- 
dom. It will all be done as in those beautiful big 
houses of the pale-faces where men act plays.” 

“ Exactly. Of course Santer is Burton, the trader, 
and Davis has led us into his hands.” 

During this brief conversation we had not moved our 
lips, and Santer could not hear our soft whisper. He 
sat half turned from us, and listened. After some time 
a loud call resounded, two or three voices answered, 
then there followed a loud scream, and we saw the three 
Whartons come out of the bush, bringing Davis be- 
tween them, apparently struggling to get away. 

“ Have you got him ? ” cried Santer, jumping up. 
“ I knew he must be near; fasten him in a ring like — ” 
He stopped short, started as though surprised, and then 
cried: “What! Who have you got there?” 

Davis seemed equally delighted and astonished; he 


156 


SANTER AGAIN. 


broke away from the three, crying: “ Mr. Santer ! Is 
it possible ? Oh, it’s all right then, and nothing will 
happen to me.” 

“ Happen to you ! No, I guess not. Who could 
have thought that you and the Davis I wanted to catch 
were identical ? Are you too with Burton, the 
trader ? ” 

“ Yes, Mr. Santer, and I was going to do a good piece 
of business on this very ride, only last night we were 
attacked by — ” He too stopped short. They had been 
shaking hands heartily, but now Davis drew back a 
little, and said: “ It can’t be you who attacked us, Mr. 
Santer ? ” 

“ It was.” 

“ Good heavens ! Attacked by a friend; a man 
whose life I have often saved ! What made you do 
it?” 

“ How should I have known you were here ? ” 

“ You couldn’t. But look at these men there, fas- 
tened, and in such a way ! That mustn’t be; I can’t 
stand it. I will free them.” 

He turned toward us, but Santer seized his arm. 
“ Stop ! What are you doing? ” he cried. “ These 
two are my deadly enemies.” 

“ Your enemies ! That’s bad, still I must help them. 
And think who they are: Winnetou and Old Shatter- 
hand ! ” 

“ It’s precisely because they are those two that they 
shall have no mercy from me.” 

“ Even if I ask you it ? ” 

“ Even then.” 

“But think what you owe me; I have saved your 
life more than once.” 


SAN TEX AGAIN. 


157 


“ I know, and I won’t forget it, Davis.” 

“ Do yon remember that the last time yon swore to 
do anything I should ask of yon ? ” 

“ I believe I did say so.” 

“ And now I claim that promise.” 

“ Don’t do it, for I can’t keep it. I am not willing 
to break my word.” 

" Come with me, Mr. Santer; I must talk to yon.” 
He took him by the arm and drew him aside, where 
they stood talking and gesticulating. They acted their 
farce so well that it would have deceived any one who 
was not thoroughly prepared. 

At last Davis alone came to ns, and said: “1 have 
succeeded so far as to lighten your burden a little. 
You heard and saw what an effort this required; still I 
hope to free you altogether.” 

He unfastened us from our agonizing position, and 
returned to Santer to carry on his work of mercy. 
After a longer time they both came to us, and Santer 
said: “ It seems as though the devil must protect you. 
I once made this gentleman a promise which I must 
keep. So I will do the most foolish act of my life, and 
free you, but everything you had with you, even your 
weapons, are mine.” 

Heither Winnetou nor I spoke. 

"Well, are you too amazed at my generosity to 
speak ? ” 

As no answer came to this either, Davis said: "nat- 
urally this unexpected rescue has struck them dumb. 
I’ll untie them.” 

He laid his hands on the ropes that held me. 
" Stop ! ” I said. “ Either everything, or nothing, Mr. 
Davis.” 


I5« 


SAN TER AGAIN. 


“ What do you mean ? ” 

“ We won’t have freedom without our weapons, and 
all our property.” 

“ Well, you’re an ungrateful pair ! I try to save you, 
and this is your return ! ” He drew Santer away again, 
and Winnetou whispered: “ That was well done. It is 
certain they will do as we require, for they expect to get 
everything hack later.” 

This was what I thought, and it proved true, for at 
last they all came over to us, and Santer said: “You 
have simply superhuman luck. My promise forces me 
to do what I know is idiotic. You’ll laugh at me, but 
I’m the last man to laugh at, as you’ll find out later. 
I’ll set you free this time, and you shall have all that 
belongs to you. Till evening, however, you are to he 
tied to this tree, so that you can’t follow us till early 
dawn. We’ll ride hack, and take Mr. Davis with us, so 
he can’t free you before the appointed time. When it 
is dark he shall come hack to you. You owe him your 
lives; see that you repay him.” 

Ho one spoke again. We were fastened side by side 
to two trees, our horses tied near us, and our weapons 
laid beside us. When this was done the five men rode 
away. 

After a long silence Winnetou said: “ We must catch 
Santer. Which does my brother think the surest way 
to do it ? ” 

“ Hot by entrapping him in Old Firehand’s valley.” 

“Ho; he must not learn the hiding-place. Davis will 
ride behind us to give him secret signs how to follow. 
When the right time comes we will disable him, and 
ride hack on our track to wait for Santer. Does my 
brother agree to this plan ? ” 


SANTE R AGAIN. 1 59 

“ Yes; that’s the best I know of. Santer expects to 
get us, but we will get him.” 

“ How.” Winnetou made no other reply, but the 
tone in which he spoke this one word expressed his 
satisfaction that after such a long vain search, at last, 
at last, his foe would fall into his hands. 

The day crept like a snail, but evening finally came, 
and as soon as it was dark we heard a horse’s hoofs, 
and Davis came to untie us. Of course he did not fail 
to lay full weight on the fact that he was our deliverer, 
and we tried to act as though we believed him, and ex- 
pressed our profound gratitude. Then we mounted, 
and rode away. 

Davis kept behind us, and occasionally we heard his 
horse prancing, which left a deep trail, and as the young 
moon arose we could see that from time to time he 
broke off a branch and dropped it to mark the way un- 
mistakably. At noon of the next day we made a long 
halt of three hours, and rode two hours more, when we 
decided the time had come to deal with Davis. We 
reined up, and dismounted. He too sprang from his 
horse, and asked: “ Why do you stop ? This is the 
third time to-day. It can’t be far now to Old Fire- 
hand’s. Won’t you go on, instead of camping for the 
night ? ” 

Winnetou said: “ No rascal can go to Old Firehand’s.” 

“ Rascal! What does the chief mean ? ” 

' “ I mean that you are one.” 

“ 1 ? Since when has Winnetou been so unjust to a 
man who has saved his life ? ” 

“ Saved it ! Do you really think you could deceive 
Old Shatterhand and me ? We know everything. 
Santer is Burton, the trader, and you are his spy. You 


i6o 


SAN TER AGAEV. 


have left signs for him to follow all the way. You are 
to deliver us over to Santer, yet you pretend you saved 
our lives. We watched, and now our time has come.” 

He stretched out his hand toward Davis, who took in 
the situation, turned, and swung himself into the saddle 
like a flash. But I had the horse by the bridle as 
quickly, and Winnetou had sprung up behind him, and 
seized him by the neck. Davis, who saw in me his 
most dangerous assailant, as I held his horse, drew his 
pistol, and aimed at me. I bent down as Winnetou 
seized the weapon. Both shots went wild, and a mo- 
ment later Winnetou had Davis off his horse; another 
half moment and he was bound and gagged. We 
bound him with the thongs which had fastened us, dis- 
armed him, and tied his horse near by, intending to 
come back after we had captured Santer. Then we 
rode back on our own trail, and hid behind the trees to 
wait for Santer. A quarter, a half, another quarter of 
an hour passed, and he did not come. After an hour I 
saw something moving across the horizon, and in a 
moment Winnetou pointed to it, and said: “ Uff ! A 
rider.” 

“ Surely a rider. That’s strange.” 

“ Uff, uff ! He rides at a gallop in the direction in 
which Santer must come. Can my brother see the color 
of his horse ? ” 

“ It seems to be a brown.” 

“ It is brown, and Davis’ horse was brown.” 

“ Davis ! Impossible ! How could he get away ? ” 

Winnetou’s eyes flashed; his breath came quicker; 
the light bronze of his face grew darker, but he con- 
trolled himself, and said calmly: “ Wait one more quar- 
ter of an hour,” 


SANTER AGAIN. 


161 


The time passed, but did not bring Santer. Then 
Winnetou asked me to ride to Davis, and see if he were 
still there. I did as he asked. The man was gone, and 
his horse also. Winnetou sprang to his feet as if shot 
from a cannon when I returned and reported this mis- 
fortune. “He has gone to warn Santer/’ he cried. 
“Who set him free ? Did you see any trail ? ” 

“Yes; a rider had come from the east; it was he 
freed him.” 

“ Who could it he ? A soldier from the fort ? ” 

“No; the footprints were so large I am sure they 
were Sam Hawkins’. And I thought I recognized the 
hoofs of his mule Nancy.” 

“ Uff ! There may be time to catch Santer, though 
he is warned. Let my brother come.” 

We threw ourselves on our horses, and rode westward 
like the wind. Winnetou did not speak, but a storm 
raged within him. Woe to Santer if he caught him ! 
We came on Davis’ trail, and in three minutes reached 
the spot wdiere he had met Santer. They had turned 
back in the direction in which Santer had come. Had 
they kept on in the old way we could have followed 
them in spite of darkness, but they were too wise for 
that, and had branched off in another direction. It 
was too dark to see. Winnetou turned his horse, and 
we galloped back without a word. Once more Santer 
had escaped us; was it for to-day, or forever ? 

The moon was high as we reached the river, and 
entered the ravine. We met Sam Hawkins just at 
the mouth. “ Were you riding to-day, Sam ? ” I 
asked. 

“Yes; I went out a piece to look for you; we were 
getting anxious.” 


SANTER AGAIN. 


162 

I was right; Sam, usually so wise, had been stupid 
enough to set Davis free. 

“ Does my white brother know what he is ? ” asked 
Winnetou, generally so considerate, and gentle towards 
the feelings of others. 

“ A frontiersman, and a trapper ? ” answered Sam 
innocently. 

“ No; no frontiersman, nor trapper, hut such a thick- 
head as Winnetou has never seen before, and will never 
see again. How ! 99 


CHAPTER XIII. 


HELLDORF SETTLEMENT. 

We set out the following morning, Winnetou and I, 
in pursuit of Santer. We hoped to overtake him 
shortly; we certainly did not dream that we should 
spend nearly a year in this pursuit, nor that the parting 
from Old Firehand was forever. We left Sam Haw- 
kins there with the understanding that if we were not 
back before Old Firehand was ready to go East, he 
should make his way to Rio Pecos, where he could get 
tidings of us. For ten whole months Santer eluded 
us. Our wanderings took us from Mexico to the north 
west, and the adventures we met with in their course 
would fill more than one book, but this is the story of 
Nugget Mountain, and they cannot be told here. At 
last we had a clue to the murderer’s whereabouts that 
led us back to the Sioux country, and we were following 
it with no less earnestness of purpose than when we had 
set out a year and a half before with the sorrow of the 
death of Intsehu-Tschuna and Nscho-Tschi fresh in our 
hearts. 

At that time the West was infested with lawless men, 
the refuse and scum of the East, who were a perpetual 
menace to the young settlers, and to the camps of work- 
men engaged on the railroads. We had with us now a 
young settler named Fred Walker, who had suffered 
163 


1 64 HELLD ORE SE T TL EMEN T. 

from these men, and who had joined ns because there 
was so much likelihood of travellers meeting these out- 
laws, as well as hostile Indians in that section. 

As evening closed in around us we reached the brow 
of a hill, and were about to descend on the other side, 
when Winnetou, who rode ahead, reined up and pointed 
onward. We looked in that direction, and saw a grassy 
plain on which was encamped a large band of Indians. 
They had been preparing meat, for the skeleton of a 
buffalo lay on one side, and ropes on which hung thick V 
pieces of buffalo steak drying had been drawn between 
poles. Winnetou scanned the camp sharply. “ Thirty- 
two tents; two hundred warriors,” he said. 

“ And there are white men with them,” I added. 

The Apache pulled out the field glass which I had 
given him, to look more closely. “ Ko-itse, the liar 
and traitor,” he muttered. “ Winnetou will plant his 
tomahawk in his skull.” 

I looked through the glass with much interest. 

“ Ko-itse ” means Firemouth, and the bearer of this 
name was known throughout that section as a good ora- 
tor, a daring warrior, and an implacable foe of the 
whites. 

“My brothers may wait; Winnetou will find a place 
for them and him to hide.” He disappeared under- 
neath the trees, and soon returned to lead us along the 
top of the hill to a place where the trees were so thick 
one could hardly penetrate them. Inside the grove 
there was room for our horses to move about, and we 
lay till dark, ready to spring out at the slightest sound. 

When night had really closed in we left Fred with the 
horses, and Went out, Winnetou to the right, I to the 
left, to spy on the Indian camp, and try to learn 


HELLDORE SETTLEMENT. 1 65 

something of their intention. The wind was against 
me, which gave me an advantage over Winnetou, as 
there was no fear of my being discovered and betrayed 
by the horses. Half an hour passed, and at last I lay 
behind the buffalo skin tent of the chief. There were 
five white men and three Indians around the fire. The 
former talked loudly together, while the more cautious 
Indians communicated rather by signs than words. 
One of the whites was a big, bearded man, with a scar 
on his forehead as if from a knife wound. 

“*And how far is it from here to Echo Canon ? ” one 
of the men asked him. 

“ It is easily reached in three days’ march.” 

“And how many people are employed there, Daw- 
son ? ” 

“ About a hundred and fifty, all well armed. Be- 
sides there are valuable stores, and plenty of drinking 
saloons. It’s worth going for. We’ll start early in the 
morning, go a piece northward, and then divide into 
bands going in different directions, and unite at Green 
Fork; we’ll be at Echo Canon in four days. Even if all 
the workmen are in, we needn’t worry; we outnumber 
them, and before they can grab their weapons the 
greater part will be done for.” 

I could not positively have had a better moment for 
spying than this. I had learned far more than I ex- 
pected to, and there was nothing to keep me there 
longer, for I knew all there was to know, and any mo- 
ment might betray me. Very slowly and carefully I 
crawled back, and when I reached the edge of the woods 
I put my hands to my mouth, and imitated the croak of 
the bull-frog, which was the signal between Winnetou 
and me. I wanted to recall him, for the work was done. 


1 66 HELLDORF SETTLEMENT. 

I was glad enough to get back to our thicket, and to 
Fred, who was as glad to see me. “ Tell me what you 
discovered, ” he said. “ I am burning with curiosity.” 

“ Well, burn a little while longer till Winnetou 
comes; I can’t tell my story twice.” 

At last we heard the bushes rustle, and Winnetou laid 
down beside me. “ My brother Jack gave me the sign; 
was he successful ? ” 

“ I heard all we want to know.” 

“ My brother is always fortunate in spying on our 
enemies. He may tell me about it.” 

I repeated what I had heard. “Now,” I said, as I 
ended, “we can’t let such a thing be done without an ef- 
fort to stop it. We’d share their guilt if we let this rabble 
fall on those honest men who are building the railroad.” 

“ That’s so,” assented Fred heartily. “ But how 
shall we stop it ? ” 

“ There’s no need of asking. We’ll go ahead, and 
warn the people who are to he attacked.” 

“ Uff ! ” cried Winnetou, starting to his feet. “ Let 
my brothers go now.” 

He untied his horse, and we did the same, led the 
beasts out of the thicket, and rode away. It was a 
dark, starless night, and only a Westerner would under- 
take to ride through such a difficult country. An East- 
ern man would have led his horse, but the denizen of 
the Wild West knows that the beast can see better than 
he. Here Winnetou showed his powers. He rode over 
brooks and crags, over stock and stone, and not for a 
moment was he doubtful of the direction to take. 
Swallow was his usual trusty self, and even Fred’s old 
Victory, though she sometimes neighed her disapproval, 
kept step with us. 


HELLDORF SETTLEMENT. 


167 


When dawn broke we found ourselves ten miles away 
from the camp of the Ogellallah Sioux, and by the next 
day had put forty miles behind us, and were delighted 
with old Victory’s pluck. We rode just before sunset 
between two hills close together, looking for a suitable 
camping place. Suddenly the hills separated, and we 
found ourselves on the side of a rock-bound valley, in 
the midst of which was a little lake, fed by a stream 
flowing from the east, and leaving the lake again to 
flow out through the rocks on the west. As we saw this 
valley we paused in surprise, not because of the valley, 
but what it contained. Among its bright verdure wan- 
dered horses, sheep, goats, cows and children. Five 
big block houses, with out-houses stood at the foot of 
the hill, and just above on a cliff stood a little chapel, 
over which rose a carved wooden crucifix. Beside this 
chapel there were several people who did not seem to 
see us. They looked toward the west where the golden 
ball of the sun was every moment sinking lower, and 
just as it touched the river whose waters were tinted 
with its glorious color, there pealed from above the silver 
voice of a bell. Here in the Wild West, in the midst of 
the forest, a crucifix ! Between the war-paths of the 
Indians a chapel ! I took off my hat, folded my hands, 
and said the Angelus. 

“ Ti-ti — What is that ? ” asked Winnetou. 

“ That is a settlement,” answered Fred sagely. 

“ Uff ! Winnetou sees the settlement, but what is 
that sound ? 99 

“ That is the vesper bell; it rings the Ave Maria 99 

“ Uff ! ” repeated the Apache. “ What is vesper 
bell ? What is the Ave Maria ? 99 

As the last peal of the bell died away a hymn rose 


HELLDORF SETTLEMENT. 


1 68 

softly on the sunset air. I listened, amazed at the 
words. It was a little hymn I had written when in 
college, and sent to a Catholic magazine: 

“ Now the light of day is fading, 

Night enfolds us, still and gray ; 

Would that grief, our poor hearts lading, 

Might with daylight steal away. 

Mary, Mother, interceding, 

Lay our sighs before God’s feet ; 

While thy children humbly pleading, 

From their loving hearts repeat : 

Ave Maria. 

It was really my Ave Maria ; how did it get here on 
the edge of the Rocky Mountains ? The simple, touch- 
ing melody flowed down oyer the valley like a dew from 
heaven; it overcame me completely. My heart seemed 
to expand to infinity, and the tears fell on my cheeks. 

As the last note died away over the valley I snatched 
my gun from my shoulder, fired twice, and spurring 
Swallow, clattered down toward the settlement, and 
over the river without stopping to see whether my 
companions were following. The two shots had not 
only wakened the echoes of the valley, but recalled it to 
life. The doors of the houses opened, and everybody 
came out to see what it meant. When they saw a white 
man, they were reassured, and waited my coming 
quietly. Before the door of the nearest block house sat 
a little old woman. Her garments were simple and 
clean; everything about her spoke of hard work, but 
over her face framed by its white hair, played a sweet 
smile of that contentment which can only he possessed 
by a soul which lives in an unshaken trust in its God. 


HELLDORF SETTLEMENT. 1 69 

“ Good evening, grandmother. Don’t be afraid; we 
are honest men. May I dismount ? ” I said. 

She nodded smilingly: “ Welcome, sir, in God’s 
name. An honest man is always welcome. There is 
my oldest son, and my Will; they will look after you.” 

The singers had come down from the chapel, at- 
tracted by my shots. They were a lusty graybeard ; 
beside him a younger man; behind them six others of 
varying ages, and all had the strong, hardy bearing of 
backwoodsmen. The oldest extended his hand to me, 
and greeted me cordially. “ Welcome to Helldorf 
Settlement, sir. It’s a pleasure to see a stranger.” 

I sprang from my horse, and shook his hand. 
“ Thank you; there’s no pleasure in life like the sight 
of a kindly face. Have you a night’s lodging for three 
tired riders ? ” 

“ Of course we have. My name’s Hillman, and this 
is my son Will.” 

“ And I’m Jack Hildreth at home, and out here I’m 
Old Shatterhand. The other two coming along now 
are Fred Walker, a frontiersman, and Winnetou, the 
Apache chief.” 

“ Is it possible ? I’ve heard of him a hundred times, 
and always the finest things,” cried Hillman. “ And 
are you Old Shatterhand ? I won’t tell you what I’ve 
heard of you.” 

“ There’s one thing you can’t have heard, and that 
is that I wrote that Ave Maria you sing. I never was 
more surprised than in hearing it here.” 

When I said this the entire little community hardly 
knew how to show their pleasure, and give me welcome. 
To these simple people the author of a hymn must he a 
very great and learned man indeed, and I was relieved 


70 


HELLDORF SETTLEMENT. 


that Winnetou and Fred came up just then to rescue me 
from their embarrassing enthusiasm. 

The elder Hillman greeted Winnetou as cordially as 
he had me, and the Apache responded with less reserve 
than he usually showed. A friendly contention arose 
as to who should entertain the guests, which Hillman 
settled by saying: “ They dismounted before my house, 
and they all belong to me.” 

In the block house we were received by a pretty 
young woman, Will’s wife. As we sat at supper the 
elder Hillman told us how they came there and bought 
this land, because they had heard that precious 
stones abounded in that region, and he was a stone 
cutter by trade. They had been disappointed, and 
though they lived peacefully, and contentedly, still the 
failure to find gems where they had sunk all their little 
capital had left them poor. Winnetou knew every 
angle in the mountains of the West, and though I knew 
that an Indian very rarely and unwillingly speaks of the 
treasures of the hills, I resolved to lay the case before 
him, and I did so, speaking in Apache. 

He looked thoughtfully before him, then his dark 
eyes rested on our hosts, and at last he said: “ Will 
these men fulfil a wish of Winnetou’s ? ” 

What is it ? ” 

“ If they will sing again what Winnetou heard from 
the hill as we came, he will tell them where they can 
find stones.” 

I was astonished to the last degree. Had the Ave 
Maria made such an impression on him that to hear it 
again he was willing to betray the secret of the hills ? 

“ They will sing it,” I said, having appealed to them. 

“ Let them look in the Gros Ventre hills; there is 


HELLD ORE SE T TLEMEN 7\ 1 7 1 

much gold. And in the valley of the Beaver River, 
where its waters flow into the Yellowstone Lake, there 
are many such stones as they seek.” 

While I repeated this to the settlers, and explained 
the location of these two points, the neighbors came in, 
and interrupted us. By degrees the room filled up, and 
we spent such an evening as I had never had in the 
West. They sang all kinds of songs, for they were of 
German blood, and feasted in music. 

Winnetou listened silently, and at last asked: “ When 
will these men keep their promise ? ” 

I reminded Hillman of it, and they began the Ave 
Maria. 

They scarcely had started to sing than Winnetou 
stretched out his hands, and cried: "It does not sound 
well in the house. Winnetou will hear it on the hill.” 

“ He’s right,” said Will. “ It should he sung in the 
open air. Come outside.” 

The singers went up the hill a little way, while we 
remained in the valley. Winnetou stood beside me, but 
soon disappeared. Then from the darkness floated 
down in sweet pure tones: 

** Now the light of day is fading, 

Night enfolds us, still and gray ; 

Would that grief, our poor hearts lading, 

Might with daylight steal away,” 

We listened in silence. Darkness veiled the singers, 
and it was as if the hymn came from heaven. When 
it was over we all went back to the house, but Winne- 
tou was missing. More than an hour passed, and he did 
not come, so I went to look for him, asking that no one 
follow me unless he heard a shot. I found him be- 


172 


HELLDORF SETTLEMENT. 


side the little lake, sitting as still as a statue. Softly 
I came up to him, and sat down beside him without 
speaking. For a long time the silence was unbroken, 
then he raised his arm, and pointed to the water, say- 
ing: “ This lake is like my heart.” 

I was afraid to speak, and he relapsed into silence, 
and when he spoke again it was to say: “ The Great 
Spirit is good'; I love Him.” 

Again I feared to disturb his thoughts by a word. 
In a little while he spoke again: “ My brother Jack is 
a great warrior, and wise in council; my soul is like his 
own, hut I shall not see him when I enter the Happy 
Hunting Grounds.” This was said so sorrowfully that 
it was a new proof to me how dear I was to Winnetou. 

“ Where is my brother’s heaven ? ” he asked. 

“ Where are 'the Happy Hunting Grounds of my 
friend ? ” I answered. 

We had been comrades for nearly tw r o years, and 
stood by one another through danger, joy and sorrow, 
yet never had the promise I had given him to be silent 
in regard to my faith been broken. I knew that he 
appreciated this, and that now when he himself had 
broken this silence, what I said would have double 
effect. “ Manitou is the Lord of all things,” I con- 
tinued. “ But let my brother consider which is the 
true God, the Manitou of the red man, or the white 
man’s God. The white man says He is Father of 
all, red and white alike, and calls them at last into 
eternal blessedness and love. But the red man thinks 
Manitou commands him to kill all his foes, and after 
a life of fighting he goes into that gloomy Hunting 
Ground where murder begins anew. Which is true ? ” 

Winnetou was silent. After a time he said: “Why 


HELLDORF SETTLEMENT. 1 73 

are not all white men like my brother Jack ? If 
they were Winneton would believe their priests.” 

“Why are not all red men like my brother Winne- 
tou ? ” I retorted. “ There are good and bad men 
among all races. The earth is far more than a thou- 
sand days’ ride long, and quite as wide. My friend 
knows only a little corner of it. The whites rule over it 
all, except a few small places, in one of which, where 
my brother lives, the wicked pale-faces, whom the good 
turn away, take refuge. This is why Winnetou thinks 
there are so many wicked pale-faces. My brother 
wanders through the hills; he hunts the buffalo, and 
kills his foes; is there happiness for him in this ? Does 
not death lurk for him behind each tree and bush ? 
Has he ever been able to give all his love and trust to 
an Indian ? Is not his life all labor, care, vigilance and 
suspicion ? Does he find rest, peace, confidence and 
refreshment for his weary soul under the ugly scalps, 
or the treacherous camps of the wilderness ? But the 
Saviour of the white men says: ‘ Come to Me, all ye who 
labor, and are heavy burdened, and I will refresh you.’ 
Why will not my brother go to that Saviour, as his 
brother does ? ” 

“ Winnetou does not know Him,” he said simply. 

“ Shall I tell my dear Winnetou about Him ? ” I 
asked. 

His head sank, and after a long pause he said: “ My 
brother Jack has spoken truly. Winnetou has loved no 
man like him; Winnetou has trusted no man but his 
friend, who is a pale-face and a Christian. My brother 
knows all lands, and their dwellers; he knows all the 
books of the pale-faces; he is daring in combat, wise at 
the council fire, and gentle to his enemy. He loves 


74 


HELLDORF SETTLEMENT. 


the red man, and studies his good. He has never de- 
ceived his brother Winnetou, and to-day also will tell 
him the truth. The word of my brother is worth more 
than the word of all the medicine-men. The red men 
howl and shriek, hut the white men have a music that 
comes from heaven, and echoes in the heart of the 
Apache. My brother may explain to me the words 
these men sang.” 

I began to explain the Ave Maria. Then in simple 
words, my voice full of my love for him, and long- 
ing to teach this noble soul as it should be taught, 
I told him the faith of the pale-face. Winnetou lis- 
tened speechlessly. 

When I ended he sat a long time in profound silence. 
At last he rose, stretched out his hand to me, and said 
with a long sigh : “ My brother has spoken words which 
can never die. Winnetou will not forget the great, 
good Manitou of the pale-faces, the Son of the Creator, 
who died on the cross, nor the maiden who dwells in 
heaven, and hears the hymn of the settler. The faith 
of the red man teaches hatred and death; the faith of 
the white man teaches love and life. Winnetou will 
choose between life and death. I thank my brother 
Jack. How.” 

We returned to the block house where they were be- 
coming anxious about us. We slept in Hillman’s soft 
bed, and in the morning parted from the worthy people 
with hearty gratitude, and with the promise to return 
if we could do so. They accompanied us a short dis- 
tance, and before we said good-by the eight singers 
drew aside, and again sang the Ave Maria for the 
Apache. 

When they had finished it, he gave his hand to each 


HELLDORF SETTLEMENT , . 


175 


one, and said: “ Winnetou will never forget the voices 
of his white friends. He has sworn never again to take 
the scalp of a pale-face, for they are the sons of the 
good Manitou, who loves the red men too” 

And so we rode away to save the camp of the railroad 
builders at Echo Canon. The last ride, hut one, alas, 
that I should ever take beside my friend, my devoted 
Winnetou. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


AT ECHO CANON. 

We rode through a small ravine between the great 
rocks that were the mouth of Echo Canon. The first 
workmen we came to were busy blasting, and did not 
see us for a moment; when they did look up, and saw 
three strangers armed to the teeth, and one an Indian, 
they promptly dropped tools for weapons. I waved my 
hand to them, and galloped toward them. 

“ Good day,” I cried. “ Put down your guns; we are 
friends.” 

“ Who are you ? ” asked one. 

“ We are hunters, and have important news for you. 
Who is in command here ? ” 

“ Engineer Colonel Rudge, but he’s away. You must 
see Mr. Ohlers, the paymaster.” 

“ Where is Colonel Rudge ? ” 

“ He has gone after a band of wreckers, who derailed 
a train. You’ll find Mr. Ohlers beyond in the camp, 
in the largest house.” 

We rode in the direction indicated, and after five 
minutes came into the camp. It consisted of some 
block houses, and two rough stone ones. Around them 
was a wall of stones loosely piled together, but which 
seemed strong, and was about five feet high. 

We dismounted, and entered the largest of the 
buildings. Its interior consisted of one room, in which 
176 


AT ECHO CANON. 


1 77 


were a number of chests and sacks, showing it to be 
the supply depot. There was only one man there, a 
little dried up creature, who rose from a chest as we 
came in. “ What do you want ? ” he asked sharply as 
he saw me. Then he discovered Winnetou, and shrank 
back in horror. “ Oh, Lord-a-mercy,” he cried. “ An 
Indian ! ” 

“ Don’t be alarmed, sir,” I said. “ We’re looking 
for Mr. Ohlers, the paymaster.” 

“ I’m Mr. Ohlers,” he said, with a frightened glance 
from behind his big steel spectacles. 

“ We wanted to find Colonel Eudge, but since he is 
away we must tell you our errand.” 

“ Speak,” he said, edging toward the door. 

“ When did Colonel Eudge go away ? ” 

“ What do you want to know for ? ” he asked, and 
suddenly slid out the door. The big iron hinges rattled, 
it slammed again, the bolt groaned — we were prisoners ! 
I turned around, and looked at my companions. The 
grave Winnetou showed his splendid ivory teeth; Fred 
made a face as if he had tasted sugar and alum, and I 
laughed loud and heartily over this neat trick. “ The 
little monkey thinks we are thieves,” exclaimed Fred. 

A big signal horn sounded to call the men, and open- 
ing one of the little port hole windows I counted sixteen 
of them gathered around the paymaster, apparently re- 
ceiving instructions. 

“ The execution is about to begin,” I remarked. 
“ They’ve got their guns. What shall we do ? ” 

“ Light a cigar,” replied Fred, suiting the action to 
the word. 

Soon the door opened cautiously, and the paymaster’s 
thin voice called from without: “Don’t shoot, you 


i;8 


AT ECHO CANON. 


rascals, or we’ll shoot you.” Then he retreated behind 
a large cask, and from this fortress demanded more 
confidently: “ Who are you ? ” 

“ You donkey ! ” laughed Walker. “ First you call 
us rascals, and then you ask who we are. Come out 
from behind your cask, and we’ll talk to you.” 

“Not much ! What did you come here for ?” 

“ To warn you.” 

“ Warn us ! Of what ? ” 

“ Of the Ogellallah Sioux and the white train wreck- 
ers who are coming to attack Echo Canon.” 

“ Ridiculous ! You’re a train wrecker yourself more 
likely.” 

I had had enough of this, so I pulled the grimmest 
face I could, threw my gun over my shoulder, took a 
revolver in each hand, and marched to the door, fol- 
lowed by Winnetou and Walker. One glance at this 
demonstration was enough to send Mr. Ohlers completely 
out of sight behind his cask, and only the end of his 
gun, sticking up like a grave stone, showed where the 
valiant leader lay. As to the workmen they respect- 
fully made way for us to pass. These were the people 
who were to resist the Sioux and the white desperadoes ! 
It was a pleasant prospect for the morrow ! 

“ You see we could shoot you, hut we don’t,” I said to 
the workmen. “ Bring out that brave paymaster of 
yours for us to talk to, unless he prefers being mur- 
dered by the Sioux.” 

After some urging the little man ventured forth into 
the daylight, and I told him all I knew. 

“ I believe you now, sir,” he said with trembling 
voice. “ And this gentleman is Mr. Winnetou ? Hon- 
ored, sir, I’m sure.” He made a deep bow to the 


AT ECHO CAttON. 


179 


Apache. “ And this is Mr. Walker ? Delighted to meet 
yon/’ Another bow. “ You think may be the colonel 
will be hack in time ? ” he continued, addressing me. 

“ I think so” 

“ I should he most glad, sir, believe me.” 

I did believe him as thoroughly as though he had 
sworn it. However I only asked: “ How many has the 
colonel with him ? ” 

“ A hundred. His bravest men.” 

“ So I see. And there are over two hundred coming, 
with the white men.” 

“ Oh, murder ! The only thing to do is to get out 
of Echo Canon, and go to the next station.” 

“ Nonsense ! What would your employers think of 
you ? What is the largest station near here ? ” 

“ Promontory. There are three hundred workmen 
there.” 

“ Then telegraph them to send you down a hundred 
well armed men.” 

He stared at me open mouthed, then sprang up, 
clapped his hands, and cried: “I never thought of 
that ! ” 

“ Yes, you seem to be a strategic genius. Let them 
bring provisions and munition, if you’re short. And 
look here, it must be done as secretly as possible, or the 
Indian spies will learn they are discovered; telegraph 
that too. Have you a line to Promontory, and how 
‘far is it ? ” 

“ Ninety-one miles. Yes, they can run down here.” 

“Good. Then they ought to be here before day- 
break if you telegraph now. To-morrow night the spies 
will he here, and in the meantime we will strengthen 
the wall. Now hurry up. You’ve three things to do: 


i8o 


AT ECHO CANON . 


Telegraph to Promontory; get your place ready for the 
night, and put your men at work on the wall.” 

“ They shall be done at once, sir,” said the little man, 
his courage completely restored by these arrangements. 
“ And you shall have a supper fit for a king. Pm the 
cook myself.” 

Everything was done exactly as we would have it. 
Our horses had good fodder, and we had such a supper 
as showed Mr. Ohlers to be more skilful with cooking 
utensils than with arms. The men worked like giants 
at building up the wall; they allowed themselves no rest 
during the night, and when I awoke early in the morn- 
ing I was surprised at the progress they had made. The 
train came down from Promontory, bringing the hun- 
dred men, and everything necessary in the way of pro- 
visions, arms and ammunition. These people took a 
hand at the work so heartily that it was done by noon. 
After dinner Winnetou, Fred and I w'ent out of the 
canon to look for the spies, first arranging that a mine 
should be sprung in the canon if one of us returned with 
tidings. 

We separated; Walker going east, I north, and Win- 
netou between the two, for we knew the enemy was to 
come by the north, or east. I climbed the rocky steep, 
and after three-quarters of an hour came to a place that 
seemed to be made for my purpose. In the very high- 
est point of the forest stood an oak, with a tall pine be- 
side it. I climbed the latter, and leaned out as far as 
possible on the strong branches of the oak. For hours 
I waited in vain, but at last I saw in the north a flock 
of crows rising from the trees. They did not fly to- 
gether, nor in any special direction, but straggled along, 
fluttering in a purposeless way over the trees, into which 


AT ECHO CAttON. 


181 

they settled again one by one. Evidently they had 
been startled. In a short time I saw another similar 
flock farther along, and another; the crows were afraid 
of something coming through the woods from the 
north. I came down as quickly as I could, and went 
stealthily in that direction, carefully concealing my 
tracks. Thus I reached an almost impenetrable thicket 
of shrubs, into which I forced myself, and laid down to 
wait. 

In a short time one, two, three, four, five, six Indians 
came one by one, sliding past my hiding-place like 
shadows. Their feet did not stir the broken twigs 
lying about. They were the spies, and wore their war- 
paint. As soon as they had passed I hastened back by 
a shorter way, knowing they must go out of their way 
for some distance before they would dare go forward. 

I noticed at once that new' men were standing about, 
but my attention was called from them by Winnetou, 
whom to my surprise I saw coming in. “ My red 
brother comes at the same time as I; did he. see any- 
thing ? ” I asked. 

“ Winnetou comes because it is not necessary to wait 
longer,” he replied. “ My brother Jack has seen the 
spies.” 

“ How did Winnetou know that ? ” 

** “ Winnetou sat in a tree, and took his glass in his 
hand. Far in the north he saw another tall tree. That 
was my brother’s direction, and since my brother is 
wise, Winnetou knew he would be in that tree. Then 
after a time Winnetou saw many specks in the sky; + hey 
were birds flying before the spies. My brother must 
also, notice this, and watch the spies, so the Apache 
chief came back to the camp where the spies will be.” 


AT ECHO CANON. 


1 82 

This is an instance of the keen sight, and judgment 
of this Indian. 

Just as we entered the camp a man came forward 
whom we had not seen before. “ Ah, Mr. Hildreth, 
you have come back from your search ? ” he asked. 
“ My men saw you coming down the rocks and called 
me. You know my name already; I am Colonel Rudge, 
and we owe you profound gratitude.” 

“ There will be time for that, Colonel,” I said. “ The 
first thing now is to fire the mine to recall my comrade. 
Will you give the order for the men to conceal them- 
selves ? The spies will be here in a quarter of an hour.” 

“ It shall be done. Go inside yourself, and Fll be 
back shortly.” 

A moment later the explosion echoed, so loud 
that Walker must have heard it. Then the men 
withdrew into the buildings, so that only a few 
people were about, all apparently occupied with their 
ordinary work. 

Colonel Rudge was not gone long. When he came in 
he said immediately: “ Tell me how we can show our 
gratitude to you and your comrades ? ” 

“ By saying nothing about it,” I answered. 

“ Well, I hope to find a better way than that some day. 
When do you think our welcome guests will arrive ? ” 

“ They will attack us to-morrow night.” 

“Then we’ve time to get acquainted,” he laughed. 
“ Come, bring your red friend into my place; you shall 
be my most honored guests.” 

He took Winnetou and me to the other stone build- 
ing which was divided into more apartments. One was 
his own, which was large enough to accommodate us 
also. Colonel Rudge had good nerve, and I saw he did 


A T ECHO ca Hon. 


183 

not dread the fight that was coming. We felt con- 
fidence in one another at once, and Winnetou too, 
whose name had long been known to the colonel, 
seemed to like him. 

“ Come, gentlemen; we’ll break the neck of a good 
bottle, since we can’t break our foes’ necks just now, 
and we’ll have a pleasant evening,” he said after Fred 
had joined us, and so we did, for there was nothing more 
to he done. 

The night passed peacefully, as did the next day. It 
was new moon, and perfectly dark in the ravine till the 
stars came out, which gave light enough to see the 
broad circle of the wall around us. As the Indians 
would attack between midnight and dawn, we placed 
only the necessary sentinels on guard, and the rest lay 
around in the grass. It was but a brief rest, and as mid- 
night approached the sleepers arose, seized their weapons, 
and took their appointed places at the windows. 

I stood at the door with my Henry rifle in my hand. 
We had divided our force into four parts, one on each 
side, two hundred and ten men strong, while thirty 
were appointed to guard the horses. 

The moments seemed to creep; it almost seemed that 
our fear had been groundless, but hark ! Something 
sounded like a stone falling on the railroad track. Then 
I heard a rustle, which an unaccustomed ear would have 
taken for the sighing of the softest breeze. They were 
coming ! “ Attention ! ” I whispered to the man next 

to me. He passed the word on around the circle. At 
last ghostly shadows flitted through the darkness, now 
to left, now to right, without the faintest sound. The 
shadows drew nearer. They were now only fifteen, 
twelve, ten, eight, six feet from the wall. Then a loud, 


AT ECHO CA ft ON. 


184 

sonorous voice rang through the night. “ SelJchi Ogel- 
lallah. Ntsage sisi Winnetou, natan Apaches. Shne Jco. 
[Death to the Ogellallah ! Here stands Winnetou, the 
chief of the Apaches. Fire !]” He raised his silver- 
studded rifle, and its flash lighted all the camp. At the 
same moment two hundred shots rattled. I had not 
fired; I waited to see the effect of the salvo, which fell 
sudden, deadly, like a judgment of heaven on the foe. 

For a moment the most profound stillness reigned; 
then a horrible howl arose which pierced the nerves, 
and shattered the hones. The unexpectedness of our 
defence had deprived the savages of breath, but now a 
din arose as if a thousand demons had broken loose 
in the valley. 

“ Once more: Fire ! ” commanded Rudge, whose 
voice could be heard above the tumult. A second salvo 
rattled, and then Rudge cried: “ Forward with your 
tomahawks.” In an instant the men were over the 
walls; even the frightened ones as bold as lions now. 

I remained at my post. All around raged a battle 
which could not continue long, for the ranks of the 
enemy had been so frightfully thinned that they could 
only save themselves by flight. 

At last it was over; the wounded lay on the ground; 
many fires burned outside the wall, and one could see 
by their light the awful harvest death had garnered in 
so short a time. I could not look at it, but went away 
to the colonel’s quarters, and sat down alone. 

Hardly had I done so when Winnetou entered. I 
looked up in surprise. “ My red brother comes ? ” I 
asked. “ Where are the scalps of his foes, the Ogel- 
lallah Sioux ? ” 

“ Winnetou will never take a scalp again,” he an- 


AT ECHO CAtiON. 


185 


swered. “ Since he has heard the music come down the 
hillside he will kill his enemy, but leave him his scalp. 
How.” 

At this moment Walker rushed in excitedly. “ Jack, 
Winnetou, come ! ” he cried. “ We have captured 
Dawson, the leader of the outlaws, and only eighty of 
the enemy has escaped. But Dawson says they are gone 
to attack Helldorf Settlement.” 

“ Oh, Lord help us, if that is true ! ” I cried, as Win- 
netou and I sprang to our feet. 

“ It is true; he is triumphing in it. We spoiled their 
game here, hut he says it was arranged that they were to 
fall back on Helldorf Settlement after they had finished 
this place up, and not a stone will he left.” 

“ Come ! ” said Winnetou briefly. 

We found the colonel. “ Lend us men,” I said. “ We 
must do what can he done for those good people.” 

“ I can’t lend you men,” he said. 

“ Then how do you expect to face God on the day of 
judgment ? ” I asked angrily. 

“ Listen, my dear fellow,” said Colonel Rudge gently. 
“I can’t desert my post; I can’t order my men to go 
with you, hut what I can do I will do gladly. You may 
speak to my men, and if any will leave their w T ork and 
go with you they shall do so. And you shall have 
horses, weapons and ammunition, provided you will re- 
turn them.” 

“ Thank you, Colonel; I am sure you can do no more. 
Pardon me that I spoke hastily.” 

Two hours later Winnetou, Walker and I, at the head 
of forty well-armed men, were tearing hack to rescue 
Helldorf Settlement, which we had left so peaceful hut 
a short time before. 


CHAPTER XY. 


MY BRAVE WINNETOU. 

We rode furiously, not resting even during the night. 
In the entire ride I doubt that there were a hundred 
words spoken. Winnetou never spoke at all, hut in his 
eyes glowed a fire that said more than any words. It 
was the second noon when we stopped our sweating 
horses on the edge of the valley in which Helldorf Set- 
tlement had stood. We saw at the first glance that 
Dawson had spoken the truth, and we had come too late. 
The entire settlement was a smoking wreck. 

Winnetou pointed to the hill. “ The Son of the 
good Manitou is gone. I will rend these wolves of 
Ogellallahs.” 

It was true; the chapel had been burned, and the 
crucifix. cast down. 

We galloped into the valley, and dismounted. We 
could not discover a trace of a living being, and though 
we searched the smoking ruins we found no human re- 
mains, which was a great consolation. 

Winnetou had gone at once to the site of the chapel, 
and now returned with the hell in his hand. “ The 
Apache chief has found the voice on the hill,” he said. 
“ He will bury it here till he returns victorious.” 

“ There isn’t a moment to lose,” I cried. “ The 
prisoners have been carried away. We must not delay, 
but must follow the trail while we can see. When it is 
dark we will rest, but now let us hasten after them.” 

186 


MY BRAVE WINNETOU. 


187 


With these words I remounted poor Swallow, and we 
started again, Winneton leading, his keen eye fastened 
on the trail. He might die, hut he would never turn 
from this path, such wrath filled him, and filled us all. 
We were forty against eighty men, hut in such a cause 
one does not stop to count numbers. 

We had still three good hours of daylight, and made 
such distance in them that we were delighted with our 
horses’ extraordinary endurance, and allowed them their 
well-earned rest. For the first two days we did not gain 
on our foes, for we dared not press our horses beyond 
their strength. 

“ Time flies,” said Walker, “ and we shall he too 
late.” 

“ We shall not be too late,” I replied. “ The prison- 
ers are reserved for torture, and that will not he until the 
Ogellallah have reached their village.” 

“ And where is that ? ” 

“ The villages of the Ogellallah are now beyond 
Quackingasp Ridge,” replied Winnetou, “ and we shall 
not overtake these robbers much short of there.” 

We passed a point where the force had divided, but, 
though there were two trails, we distinguished the right 
one by little drops of blood which had fallen along the 
way. At a certain spot we saw that the Indians had 
gone on very slowly, leading their horses. This was 
strange, and I was considering it, when suddenly Win- 
netou reined up, looked far ahead, and made a gesture 
as though he recollected something. 

“ Uff ! ” he cried. “ The pit of the hill which the 
pale-faces call Hancock ! ” 

“ What about it ? ” I asked. 

“ Now Winnetou knows all. The Sioux sacrifice 


1 88 


MY BRAVE WINNETOU . 


their prisoners to the Grea^ Spirit in this pit. These 
Ogellallahs have divided; the greater part to call to- 
gether the scattered hands of their tribe, while the 
smaller brings the prisoners to the pit. They have 
been bound on the horses, and the Ogellallah run beside 
them.” 

“ How far is this mountain from here ? ” 

“ My brothers will reach it this evening.” 

“ Impossible ! Hancock Mountain is between the 
Yellowstone and Snake rivers.” 

“ My white brother must remember there are two 
Hancock mountains. Winnetou knows the right one, 
and its pit. He and his father once made a compact 
in this pit with the Ogellallah Sioux, which they broke. 
My brothers will leave the trail, and trust to the Apache 
chief.” 

He spurred his horse, and sprang forward at a gallop; 
evidently he knew exactly what he was going to do, and 
we rode after him. We went through valleys and ra- 
vines for a time, till suddenly the mountain rose before 
us, and a grassy plain spread out at our feet. 

“ That is J-akown akono, the prairie of blood, in the 
speech of the Tchua,” called Winnetou without paus- 
ing in his ride. 

So that was the horrible bloody prairie of which I had 
heard so much ! Here the united tribes of the Dakotas 
had brought their prisoners, set them free, and hunted 
them to death. Here thousands of innocent victims 
had died at the stake, in the fire, by the knife, and liv- 
ing burial. Ho Indian or white man wandered here, 
and we rode over this accursed plain as carelessly as if 
we were in a peaceful meadow. Only Winnetou could 
have been our leader. Our horses began to droop. A 


MY BRAVE WINNETOU. 1 89 

single hill rose before ns, and we let our poor beasts rest 
in the woods at its foot. 

“ That is Hancock Mountain/’ said Winnetou. 

“ And is the pit here ? ” I asked. 

“ Yes; on the other side of the mountain. In an 
hour my brother will see it. He will follow me, but 
leave his gun behind.” 

“ Only I ? ” 

“ Yes. This is the place of death; only a strong 
man can hear it. Our brothers may hide under the 
trees, and wait.” 

The mountain at whose foot we found ourselves was 
of volcanic origin, and perhaps three miles broad. I 
laid aside all my weapons except my knife, and followed 
Winnetou up its western side. He mounted in short 
spiral curves; it was a very difficult path, and my guide 
bent backward cautiously, as if he feared a foe behind 
each shrub. It took an hour for us to gain the top. 

“ My brother must be still, still,” he whispered as he 
lay down on his stomach, and slid forward between two 
bushes. I followed, and almost fell back with horror, 
for scarcely had I thrust my head between the bushes 
than I saw directly before me the funnel-shaped, steep 
abyss of a crater fully a hundred and fifty feet deep, the 
edge of which I could reach with my hand. At the 
bottom w T as a plain about fifty feet in diameter, and 
there lay the people of Helldorf Settlement whom we 
sought, bound hand and foot, and guarded by a large 
Ogellallah watch. I conquered my horror, and counted 
our friends; none was missing. I looked over each 
foot of this extinct crater, to see if there was any way 
of getting into it. Yes, it might be done, if one were 
cunning, and had a stout rope, and could get the guards 


MY BRAVE WINNETOU. 


I90 

away. There were several jutting rocks which could be 
used as holding, or resting points. Winnetou crept 
back, and I did the same. 

“ We can get down there,” I said. “ We have lassos, 
and the railroad men are well supplied with ropes.” 

Winnetou nodded, and we began the descent. The 
sun dropped behind the mountain as we reached its 
foot, and we began our preparations. All our ropes 
were tied together in one long rope, and Winnetou 
picked out twenty of the most experienced men for the 
enterprise; the others were to watch the horses. 
We arranged that three-quarters of an hour after we 
started two of the men were to jump on their horses, 
and ride around the mountain toward the east, kindle a 
fire, and then return. This fire was to distract the 
attention of the Indian guards from us to that part of 
the prairie. 

The sun had set, and the west was tinted with crim- 
son, fading to purple, and dying away into the gray of 
evening. Winnetou had left his place among us. He 
seemed to be quite unlike his usual self in the last hour. 
The steady light of his eye had given way to a peculiar 
restless sparkle, and on his brow, always smooth and 
calm, a frown had gathered, indicating unusual gravity 
of thought, or anxiety disturbing the equilibrium of his 
soul at which I had so often wondered. It was not 
only my right, but my duty to inquire into this, and I 
rose up, and followed him. He stood at the edge of the 
woods, leaning against a tree, his eyes fixed on the west 
and the clouds piled on the horizon, their edges golden 
with the day’s last splendor. Although I came softly, and 
he was sunk in thought, he not only heard my step, but 
recognized it. Without turning toward me he said: 


MY BRAVE WINNETOU. IQ I 

“ My brother J ack comes to look for his friend. He is 
right, for in a little while he will see him no more.” 

T laid my hand on his shoulder, and said: “ Are there 
shadows over the spirit of my brother Winnetou ? He 
must drive them away.” 

He raised his hand, and pointed to the west. “ There 
burns the flame of life; it is gone, and darkness comes. 
Can you drive away the shadows that fall there ? ” 

“ No, but the light comes again in the morning, and 
a new day breaks.” 

“For Hancock Mountain a new day will begin, but 
not for Winnetou. His sun will set, as this one has set, 
and will never rise again. The next dawn will smile 
at him on the other side of those clouds.” 

“ That is a presentiment of death which my dearest 
brother Winnetou must not yield to. To-night will be 
dangerous for us, but how often has death stretched out 
his hand for us, and we escaped him ! Throw off the 
weight that oppresses you. It is caused by the mental 
and bodily exertions of the last few days.” 

“No; Winnetou’s exertions do not master him, and 
no weariness can rob him of the serenity of his soul. 
My brother Old Shatterhand knows me, and knows that 
I have thirsted for the waters of knowledge and learn- 
ing, and you have poured them out for me, and I have 
drunk of them in deep draughts. I have learned much, 
more than any of my brethren, but I have remained a 
red man. The whites are like the domestic beasts whose 
instinct has almost disappeared, but the Indian is the 
wild beast, who has not only kept his sharp senses, but 
hears with his soul. The red man knows exactly when 
death comes near him; he does not suspect it, but feels 
its coming, and crouches in the deepest thicket of the 


192 


MY BRAVE WINNETOU . 


wood to die calmly and alone. This presentiment, this 
feeling which never deceives has come to Winnetou 
now.” 

I drew him to me, and said: “ And yet it deceives 
you. Have you ever had this feeling before ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ Then how can you recognize it for the presentiment 
of death ? ” 

“ It is so plain, so plain. It tells me that Winne- 
tou will die with a bullet in the breast, for only a bullet 
can reach me; the Apache chief could defend himself 
against a knife, or a tomahawk. My brother may be- 
lieve me; I go to the Happy — ” 

He stopped. “ To the Happy Hunting Grounds,” he 
would have said, according to Indian belief. What 
prevented him finishing that sentence ? I knew; he 
had been a Christian in heart since our talk at Helldorf 
Settlement. 

He threw his arm around me, and corrected his half- 
finished words. “ I go to-day where the Son of the good 
Manitou has gone to prepare our dwelling in His 
Father’s house, and where some day my brother Jack 
will follow. There we shall meet again, and there will 
be no difference between the white and red children of 
the Father who loves them both with the same love. 
There will be eternal peace; no more murder; no more 
crushing out of men who were good, and came to the 
whites peacefully and confidingly, yet were destroyed. 
Then the good Manitou will hold the scales of the world 
to judge the deeds of the white and red, and the inno- 
cent blood which has been shed. But Winnetou will 
stand by and beg for mercy for the murderers of his 
nation, his brothers.” 


MY BRAVE WINNE TO U. 


193 


He pressed me to him, and was silent. I was pro- 
foundly moved, and an inward voice whispered to me: 
“ His instinct has never deceived him; perhaps this 
time too it speaks the truth.” Nevertheless I said: 
“ My brother Winnetou considers himself stronger than 
he is. He is the mightiest warrior of his race, but he is 
only a man. I have never seen him tired, but the last 
few nights and days have been too much for us all. 
Exhaustion prostrates the soul, weakens our self-con- 
fidence, and gloomy thoughts come, which disappear 
when we are rested. My brother should rest. Stay 
with- the men whom we leave here to guard the horses.” 

He shook his head slowly: “ My brother Jack does 
not say that in earnest.” 

“ Yes, I do ! I have seen the crater, and measured 
it exactly with my eye; I can lead the attack alone.” 

“ And I not be there ? ” he asked, a proud light in 
his eyes. 

“ You have done enough; rest ! ” 

“ Have you not done enough too, even more than I, 
and all the rest ? I will not stay behind.” 

“ Not even if I beg you to as a sacrifice for my 
sake ? ” 

“ Not even then. Shall it be said that Winnetou, 
the chief of the Apaches, feared death ? ” 

“No man would dare say it.” 

“ And if all the rest were silent, and did not count 
me a coward, one would do so, and his reproach would 
redden my cheeks with shame.” 

“ And that is — ? ” 

“I myself. I would forever cry in the ear of that 
Winnetou who rested while his brother Jack fought, 
that he should be among the cowards, and was no longer 


194 


MY BRAVE WINNETOU. 


worthy to call himself a warrior, a chief of his brave 
people. No, no; do not ask me to stay behind/’ 

I could say no more; it would he better for Winnetou 
to die than to live with such a feeling. 

After a short pause he continued: “ We have often 
faced death, and my brother was prepared for it, and 
wrote in a little book what should be done if he fell in 
combat. I was to take the book and read it, and do as 
it said. That is called a will by the pale-faces. Win- 
netou has also made a will, though he has not spoken of 
it. To-day when he feels the approach of death he 
must do so. Will you carry it out ? ” 

“ Yes. I hope, I know, your presentiment will not 
be fulfilled; you will see many, many suns arise, but 
if you die it shall be my most sacred duty to do what- 
ever you ask of me.” 

“ Even if it were hard, very hard, and included many 
dangers ? ” 

“ Winnetou does not ask that seriously. Send me to 
death, and I will go.” 

“ I know it, Jack. You would spring in the open 
abyss for me. You will do what I ask of you; you alone 
can do it. When I am dead seek my father’s grave. 
When you are at its foot, exactly on the west side, you 
will find buried in the ground the will of Winnetou, 
who will be no longer with you. I have explained my 
wishes there, and you will fulfil them.” 

“ My word is like an oath,” I assured him with tears 
in my eyes. “ No danger, however great, shall prevent 
me doing what you have written there.” 

“ I thank you. And now we are ready. The time to 
attack has come. I shall not live beyond this combat. 
Let us say good-by, my dear, dear Jack. May the good 


MY BRAVE WINNETOU. 


195 


Manitou repay you for having been so much, so much 
to me. My heart feels more than I can say in words. 
Let us not weep, for we are men. Bury me in the Gros 
Ventre hills, on my horse, with all my weapons, and my 
father’s silver-studded rifle, that it may not fall into 
other hands. And then when you go back to the people 
in the East, of whom none will love you as I love you, 
think sometimes of your friend and brother Winnetou, 
who blesses you, for you have been a blessing to him.” 

He, the Indian, laid his hands on my head. He re- 
pressed a sob with difficulty, and as I held him to me, 
I wept outright. “ Winnetou, my Winnetou,” I cried, 
“ it is only a presentiment, a shadow that passes over 
you. You must stay with me; you can’t leave me.” 

“ I go away,” he answered softly, but clearly; then he 
released himself from my arms, and turned back to the 
camp. As I followed him I tried in vain to find a 
means to keep him from the fight, but there was none. 
What would I have given, and what would I give to-day, 
had I been able to ? 

I was utterly unmanned, and in spite of his self- 
control, I heard his voice tremble as he called to the 
men: “ It is now quite dark; let us go. My brothers 
may follow me and Old Shatterhand.” 

We climbed the mountain behind one another, by the 
way Winnetou and I had previously gone up. The steep 
ascent was even more difficult in the darkness, and it 
took more than an hour for us to reach the edge of the 
crater. Looking over we saw a great fire burning, and 
by its light we saw the prisoners and their guards. Not 
a sound escaped us. We fastened our rope to a crag, 
and waited for the fire on the prairie. It was not long 
before three, four, and five fires which looked like camp 


MY BRAVE WINNETOU. 


196 

fires blazed up in the east. We looked and listened 
down the crater. We were not mistaken in the antici- 
pated effect, for soon an Indian appeared through a 
fissure from the other side of the crater, spoke to one of 
the guards, who arose and went with him through the 
cleft to observe the fires. Now was our time. I seized 
the swinging rope to be the first to go down, but Win- 
netou took it out of my hand. 

“ The chief of the Apaches is the leader,” he said. 
“ My brother comes behind me.” 

Winnetou swung out, I after him, Fred last. We had 
arranged to trust only four at a time on the rope, which 
fortunately held. Of course as we slid down we dis- 
placed a great many rocks, which rolled into the crater. 
One of them must have struck a child, for it began to 
cry, and the head of an Indian appeared in the fire- 
lighted fissure. He heard the stones, looked up, and 
gave a cry of warning. 

“ Forward, Winnetou, or all is lost,” I cried. 

The men above saw what had happened, and slackened 
the rope. A half minute later we should have reached 
the bottom, but at that instant a shot rang out from the 
cleft. 

Winnetou fell to the ground. I stood still in horror. 
“ Winnetou, my friend, are you wounded ? ” I cried. 

“ Winnetou dies,” he answered. 

A mad fury possessed me. “ Winnetou is dying,” I 
cried to Walker. “ Forward.” I did not take time to 
snatch my rifle from my shoulder, or draw a knife or 
revolver. With raised fist I threw myself on the five 
Indians who had already come through the cleft. The 
foremost of them was the chief, whom I recognized 
instantly. “ Down, Ko-itse,” I cried. A blow felled him 


MY BRAVE WlNJYE TO U. 


19 7 


like a log. The Indian behind him had raised his toma- 
hawk to strike me, but the firelight fell on my face, and 
he dropped the tomahawk in fright. 

“ Ka-ut-skamasti, Shatterhand ! ” he cried. 

“ Yes; here is Old Shatterhand; down with you,” I 
cried. I did not know myself. The second blow 
knocked this man down. 

“ Ka-ut-skamasti,” cried the Indians. 

I received a knife wound in the shoulder, but scarcely 
felt it. Two of the Indians fell before Fred’s shots, and 
I knocked down a third. Meanwhile more of our men 
had come down the rope, and I could leave the Indians 
to them. 1 turned back to Winnetou, and knelt beside 
him. 

“ Where is my brother wounded ? ” I askedr 

“ Here, in the breast,” he answered softly, laying his 
left hand on the right side of his breast, reddened by 
his blood. 

I drew my knife, and cut the blanket which was 
wound around him. Yes; the bullet had entered the 
lung. A pain gripped my heart such as I had never felt 
in my happy young life. 

“ My friend will lay me on- his bosom that I may see 
the fight,” he whispered. 

I did so, and he saw that as fast as the Indians came 
through the fissure they were shot down. By degrees 
all our men had descended the rope, the prisoners were 
freed, and raised a shout of joy and gratitude. 

I saw nothing but my dying friend, whose wound had 
ceased to bleed, and I knew this meant that he was 
bleeding inwardly. 

“ Has my brother any wish ? ” I asked. 

He had closed his eyes, and did not reply. I held his 


9 8 


MY BRAVE WINN E TO tj. 


head on my arm, and hung over him motionless, my 
eyes fastened on the bronze features and closed lids of 
the Apache. At last Walker, who was wounded, came 
to me and said : “ They are all dead.” 

“ This one will also die,” I replied. “ All the others 
are nothing beside him.” 

Still Winnetou laid still. The railroad men and the 
settlers formed a silent circle around us. 

At last Winnetou opened his eyes. “ Has my dear 
brother any wish ? ” I repeated. 

He nodded. “ My brother Jack will lead the men to 
the Gros Ventre mountains. They will find such stones 
as they seek; they deserve them.” 

“ What more, Winnetou ? ” 

“ My brother, do not forget the Apache. He will 
pray for him to the great, good Manitou. Are these 
people able to climb with their wounded limbs ? ” 

“ Yes,” I said, though I saw how the settlers’ hands 
and feet had been torn. 

“ Winnetou begs them to sing the song to the Queen 
of Heaven.” 

They had heard what he said, and without waiting 
started at once up a rocky point, just above Winnetou’s 
head. His eyes followed them, then closed. He grasped 
both my hands, and listened as they sang: 

“ Now tlie light, of day is fading, 

Night enfolds us, still and gray; 

Would that grief, our poor hearts lading, 

Might with daylight steal away. 

Mary, Mother, interceding, 

Lay our sighs before God’s feet, 

While thy children humbly pleading, 

From their loving hearts repeat: 

Ave Maria.” 


my brave winne to u. 


199 


As they began the second stanza he opened his eyes, 
and raised them, with a gentle, smiling look to the 
stars. “ Jack, are not these the words of death ? ” 

Sobbing, I bowed my head, and they sang: 

“ Now tlie last ray disappearing, 

Still and gray falls death’s dark night, 

And the soul, its summons hearing, 

Spreads its wings to take its flight. 

Mary, at this hour defending, 

In thy hands our prayer we lay; 

Help us when our life is ending; 

Wake us to eternal day: 

Ave Maria.” 

As the last note died away he tried to speak, but could 
not. I brought my ear close to his lips, and in my hand 
I held the canteen of water I had carried over my shoul- 
der. With the last effort of his failing strength Winne- 
tou whispered: “ Jack, I believe in the Saviour. Win- 
netou is a Christian. Good-by.” 

I poured the water on his head thrice. “ Winnetou, 
I baptize thee, in the name of the Father, and of the 
Son, and of the Holy Ghost,” I said. 

A convulsive tremor passed through his body; a 
stream of blood burst from his lips; his hands slipped 
from mine; his limbs straightened — my brother, doubly 
my brother in that moment, was dead. 

I passed the night holding him in my arms as he had 
died, in speechless, tearless grief. Were it possible, how 
gladly would I have divided my remaining years with 
him ! 

We buried Winnetou in the spot he had chosen, with 
Christian prayers, and with the honor due so great a 
chief. He sits on his horse with all his weapons around 


200 


MY BRAVE WINNETOU . 


him, in the bosom of the Gros Ventre hills. But no 
scalps of enemies wave on his grave, as are usual on the 
grave of a chief, but a cross speaks of peace. 

The stones he promised to be found in this place were 
found abundantly, and a new Helldorf Settlement was 
made near his grave. Here we brought the bell of the 
old settlement which Winnetou had buried, and it 
swings in the belfry of the new chapel. When its voice 
recalls the Angelus hour to the settlers, they think of 
my brave Winnetou, who died to save them, and know 
his dying prayer is granted: 

“ Wake us to eternal day: 

A'oe Maria. ” 


CHAPTER XVI. 


BACK TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 

For two weeks I lingered by Winnetou’s grave. I 
was benumbed at first, and saw the good people working 
on the new Helldorf Settlement, and listened to their 
voices as in a dream, too listless and heavy-hearted to 
be of any nse, or feel any interest in what went on 
around me. 

The kindly settlers tried to arouse me from my leth- 
argy of sorrow sufficiently to be of some use in planning 
the little settlement for which Winnetou died. Help- 
ing others helped me, as it does every one, and two 
weeks after Winnetou had been laid to rest in the heart 
of the mountain I realized that I must no longer dally 
by his grave. My friend’s last request called me for its 
fulfilment. I must go back to Rio Pecos to tell his 
people how he died, and then to Nugget Mountain to 
find the paper which should speak his last words to me. 

I parted from the good settlers with hearty affection 
and regret on both sides, and leaving Walker with them 
till he should be quite recovered, and they well estab- 
lished, mounted on Swallow, who was thoroughly rested, 
and set out on my long ride. 

I was so impatient to get Winnetou’s letter that I 
went straight to Nugget Mountain, leaving Rio Pecos 
till afterward. The way was dangerous, but I rode cau- 
tiously, and came safely through the Sioux country, and 
201 


202 


BACK TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 


then the Kiowas’, and at last, one night toward sunset, 
saw once more Nugget Mountain rising before me. I 
laid at its foot till dawn, and then with a heavy heart, 
climbed the mountain which I had last seen when Win- 
netou and I descended it together. 

The tombs were there undisturbed. The stone 
mound beneath which Intschu-Tschuna rested on 
his horse, with his weapons around him, as be- 
came a brave warrior, and beside it the stone 
pyramid, with the branches of the tree waving from its 
apex, beneath which Nscho-Tschi sat sleeping her last 
sleep. And now in the heart of the Wyoming moun- 
tains, Winnetou was at rest. 

I looked around to be sure that I was alone, and with 
my knife cut out a piece of turf in the spot Winnetou 
had designated, and began digging. I spread my coat 
on the ground, and piled on it the dirt I took out to fill 
in the hole again afterward. I worked with feverish 
haste, stopping at intervals to listen for a step or a voice. 
The hole grew deeper and deeper, and at last my knife 
struck a stone, which I took out, and then a second one 
which lay under it, and then I saw a square space, lined 
with stone, and perfectly dry. At the bottom was a 
leather wrapped package — the will of my brother Win- 
netou. The next moment I had thrust it in my pocket, 
and was hastily filling in the hole. This went much 
faster than the digging, for I had only to shake back 
the dirt in my coat, pound it down, replace the piece of 
sod I had cut out, and no one could tell that a hole had 
been dug there. 

Thank heaven ! I had succeeded ! I listened; 
there was not the slightest sound. I opened the leather, 
which was held together with nails, and inside 


back to nuggbt mountain. 203 

was a second cover, which Winnetou. had tied together 
with deer tendons. I cut them, and saw several 
leaves of closely written paper. For Winnetou 
could write; Kleki-Petrah, his white teacher, had 
taught him this, as well as so much else. He had 
never had much occasion to use this accomplishment, 
and he wrote the careful, stiff hand of a school-boy 
trying to follow his copybook faithfully, but he wrote 
very plainly. How long, how very long he must have 
worked over this last message to me ! 

My eyes filled with tears; I dried them, and read: 
“ My dear good brother: You live, and Winnetou, who 
loved you, is dead. But his soul is with you; you hold 
it in your hand, for it is written on these pages: let 
them rest on your heart. You shall learn the last wish 
of your red brother, and read many words from him 
which you will never forget, but first I will say to you 
what is necessary to say. Here you have not the only 
will of Winnetou, for it lives in the souls of his red 
warriors. This is for you alone. You will see a great 
deal of gold, and will do with it what my spirit tells 
you. It lies hidden in Nugget-tsil — ” I had read to 
this point when I hear a voice behind me saying: 
“ Good day, Mr. Shatterhand. Are you perfecting 
yourself in the spelling-book ? 9> I looked up. Santer 
stood by me smiling derisively. 

The shock of seeing him, of raising my eyes from 
Winnetou’s last words, as I sat by his father’s grave, 
to the face of his murderer, was indescribable, and at 
the same instant I recognized the fact that I had been 
guilty of the greatest stupidity of my life. I had laid 
aside all my weapons, even my belt with my knife and 
revolver, because they were in my way as I bent down to 


204 


BACK TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 


dig, and had left them ten feet behind me. And now 
here was Santer ! 

He laughed as he saw my futile movement for my 
weapons. “ Not a step from that spot; not a movement 
after your weapons, or Fll shoot instantly. Fm in 
deadly earnest,” he said. 

His sudden appearance so stunned me, that I stared 
at him without moving. “ At last I ? ve got you,” he 
continued. “ Do you see my finger on the trigger ? 
The least movement, and Fll blaze away into your 
brains. You did not expect to meet me here, eh ? ” 

“No,” I answered quietly. 

“ Well, you’ll be glad to hear how it came about. 
I’ve been to tell Tangua that the Apache cur, your 
friend, was at last put an end to, for I knew how glad 
he’d be to hear it. And then I came here with three 
men that I’ve got together to look for that gold which 
I know is somewhere in this mountain. You see, I am 
frank with you, because you’re in my power, and be- 
cause I know it drives you mad to hear that I shall get 
your beloved redskin’s treasure at last. What is that 
paper you have in your hand ? ” 

“ A tailor’s bill,” I said. 

“ Yes, of course. Don’t be funny. I tell you, you 
dog, it’s all up with you.” 

“ Or with you; it’s one of the two, that’s certain.” 

“ Impudent mongrel that you are ! You snarl like a 
cur to the last. But that’s all the good it will do; I re- 
peat: It’s all up with you, and that paper in your hand 
will give the information we want.” 

“ Come get it then.” 

“ I’ll have it fast enough, but I won’t take any risks 
with such a dangerous fellow as you are. Come here, 


BACK TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 


205 


and bind him, Gates.” At these words three men came 
out from behind the trees with thongs in their hands. 

“ Drop that paper, and hold out your hands to him,” 
ordered Santer. 

I obediently dropped the paper. 

“ Now your hands.” 

I held them out to Gates with apparent submission, 
but in such a way that he had to get between me and 
Santer to tie them. 

“ Stand aside; you’re in the way of my gun,” he 
shouted. Before Gates could move I had seized him 
around the waist, lifted him, and hurled him against 
Santer, who sprang aside, but too late. He was knocked 
down, and his gun dropped from his hand. In an in- 
stant I was kneeling on him. A blow from my fist 
knocked him senseless. Then I arose, and shouted to 
the others: “ That was proof that I am Shatterhand. 
Drop your weapons, or I’ll shoot; I too am in earnest.” 

I had taken Santer’s revolver from his belt, and 
aimed at the three men. “ Go and sit down on the 
grave of the chief’s daughter,” I said, choosing this 
place because it was farthest from the weapons, and 
they obeyed promptly. 

“ This is awful,” moaned Gates, rubbing his sides. 
“ Perfectly horrible. I flew through the air like a ball. 
I’m sure I’m broken somewhere.” 

“ It’s your own fault; take care nothing worse hap- 
pens to you. Now, give me those thongs.” 

He produced them, and I bound Santer’s feet to- 
gether, and his arms behind his back. It was not long 
before he opened his eyes, and saw his comrades sitting 
on the Indian girl’s grave. I was fastening my belt. 

“ Have you blabbed ? ” he asked Gates at once. 


206 


BACK TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 


“No,” replied Gates. 

“ What should he blab about ? ” I demanded. 

“ Nothing.” 

“ See here, speak up, or Fll open your mouth. Now 
then ? ” 

“ About the gold,” Santer answered with apparent 
reluctance. 

“ Is that true; did he mean nothing else ? ” I asked 
Gates. 

“ That’s all,” he replied. 

“ I don’t believe you; your face and manner show 
you are trying to deceive. Was Santer alone when he 
came up here, except for you ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Well, this is the end of your gold, for Santer is my 
prisoner, and must pay for his crimes with his life.” 

Santer laughed scornfully as I said this, and I turned 
to him. “ You will feel less like laughing a little later. 
What is to prevent me putting a bullet through your 
head ? ” 

“ Yourself. Everybody knows Old Shatterhand is 
Jfraid to kill a man.” 

“ I certainly am no murderer, but you have deserved 
death again and again. I am a Christian, and do not 
seek revenge, but you must be punished.” 

“ Don’t make beautiful speeches. It’s all the same 
thing whether you call it punishment or revenge, so 
don’t show off with your Christianity.” 

“ I have no idea of taking your life, but I will send 
you to the nearest fort, and deliver you over to justice.” 

“ Really ? Do you know I venture to doubt that ? 
I think you’ll be carried off yourself, and as I’m not 
such a pious saint as you it won’t occur to me to re- 


BACK TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN . 20 7 

nounce my revenge. There they are already; see ? 
They're coming.” He uttered these words triumph- 
antly, and with good reason, for a howl arose on all 
sides at once, and the Kiowas in full war-paint burst 
upon me. Gates had lied to me; Santer had not been 
alone in coming here, but had brought the Kiowas with 
him to Nugget Mountain to celebrate the death of Win- 
netou by his father's grave. 

The attack was so sudden that I had not time to 
think, and drew my revolver, but as I saw myself sur- 
rounded by sixty warriors I put it back in my belt. 
Flight was impossible, and resistance useless. I drew 
back from the hands stretched out to seize me, and 
cried in a loud voice: “ Old Shatterhand yields himself 
a prisoner to the Kiowas. Is the young chief here ? 
To Pida, but to him only, I will freely give myself up.'' 

“ Freely ! " mocked Santer. “ This fellow who calls 
himself Old Shatterhand so loftily, needn't talk about 
doing it freely. He has to give himself up or be taken 
by force. Seize him.'' 

He took care not to seize me himself, however, though 
the Indians had liberated him. The Kiowas obeyed 
him, and crowded around me, but used no weapon be- 
cause they wanted to take me alive. I defended myself 
with all my might, and knocked down several, but of 
course I could not have withstood such numbers, if Pida 
had not appeared and cried: “ Stop ! Let him alone; 
he gives himself up to me, and there is no need of at- 
tacking him.” 

Santer cried out angrily: “Why should he be 
spared ? Let him have as many blows as there are arms 
to give them. Take him; I command it.” 

The young chief stepped up to him, and said with a 


/ 


0 

208 BACA' TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 

gesture that did not signify much respect for him: 
“ You dare to give commands here ? Do you know 
who leads these warriors ? ” 

“ You.” 

“ And who are you ? ” 

“ The Kiowas’ friend, whose will it is to be hoped 
they will respect.” 

“ A friend ! Who says that ? ” 

“ Your father.” 

“ That is not true. Tangua, the Kiowa chief, never 
used that word toward you. You are nothing but a pale- 
face whom we merely tolerate ‘among us.” Then turning 
to me, Pida said: “ Old Shatterhand will be my prisoner. 
Will he freely give me what he has with him ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ And let himself be bound ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Then give me your weapons.” 

I was pleased that he asked this of me, for it showed 
he feared me. I gave him the revolver and knife, but 
the Henry rifle and bear-killer Santer picked up, and 
appropriated to himself. 

“ Put those down,” said Pida, turning on him. 
“ Why do you take my guns ? ” 

“ Not much; they’re mine.” 

Pida raised his hand threateningly. “Lay them 
down this moment.” 

“ I will not.” 

“ Bind him again.” 

As Santer saw the hands extended to seize him, he 
threw down the weapons, saying contemptuously: 
“Here they are, but you won’t keep them; Fll com- 
plain to Tangua.” 


BACK TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN # 20g 

“ Do” said Pida, with a scornful look. 

Santer came over to me. “ You may have the guns,” 
he said, “ but I will have everything in his pocket.” 

He stretched out his hand toward the pocket where I 
had put Winnetou’s letter. “ Back,” I ordered. 

He fell back, frightened by my voice, but rallied in- 
stantly, and said: “ I will know what you dug up.” 

“ Don’t try to take it.” 

“ I certainly will. I know it will make you crazy to 
have this treasure in my hands, but you’ll have to stand 
it.” 

He made a dash at me with both hands. Mine were 
not yet thoroughly hound; with a jerk I freed them, 
took Santer by the breast with my left hand, and with 
the right gave him a blow on the head that felled him 
like an ox. 

“ Uff, uff, uff,” cried all the Indians. 

“ How bind me again,” I said, holding out my hands 
to them. 

“ Old Shatterhand tells his name by his acts,” said 
the young chief admiringly. “ What is it that this 
Santer wants from you ? ” 

“A written paper,” I answered, not daring to tell 
him more. 

“He called it a treasure.” 

“Nonsense; he doesn’t know what it is. Whose 
prisoner am I, yours or his ? ” 

“ Mine.” 

“ Then why do you allow him to attack and rob 
me ? ” 

“ The red warriors will have only your weapons; they 
cannot use anything else.” 

“ Is that any reason to give it to this fellow ? Is Old 


210 


BACK TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 


Shatterhand a boy that any ragamuffin can empty his 
pockets ? I gave myself up to you, and respect you as 
a warrior and a chief; don’t forget I too am a warrior 
whose footstool this Santer is only fit to fetch.” 

The Indians respect pride and courage, even in a foe, 
and Pida remembered that I had once taken him cap- 
tive, and treated him kindly. I counted on this, and 
not in vain, for his eyes were far from unfriendly as 
he answered: “ Old Shatterhand is the bravest of the 
white warriors, but the one you have knocked down has 
two tongues, and two faces, and sometimes shows one, 
and sometimes the other. He shall not touch your 
pockets.” 

“ I thank you. You are worthy to be a chief, and will 
be the most renowned of the Kiowas. A noble warrior 
.kills his foe, but does not humble him.” 

I saw my words made him proud, and the tone was 
almost compassionate in which he said: “ Yes; he kills 
his foe. Old Shatterhand must die, and not only die, 
but be tortured.” 

“ Torture me, and kill me; you shall not hear a groan 
from my lips, but keep this beast away from me.” 

Santer recovered consciousness at this moment, and 
springing to his feet, darted toward me, raging like a 
wild beast. He drew his pistol, and cried: “ You cur, 
your last hour has come.” 

The Indian next him knocked up his hand, and the 
shot whizzed by harmlessly. 

“ Why do you stop me ? ” he roared, turning on the 
Kiowa fiercely. “ I can do what I will, I tell you.” 

“ Ko; you cannot do what you will,” said Pida, going 
up to him, and taking hold of his arm warningly. “ Old 
Shatterhand belongs to me; his life is mine; no one 


BACK TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN. 


211 


else can take it. Yon did my father a service, for which 
we allow you to be with us; don’t presume on it. I tell 
you if you touch Old Shatterhand you shall die by my 
hand.” 

“ Then what are you going to do with him ? ” asked 
Santer, sullenly. 

“ Take him to our village, where he will die.” 

“ You are very foolish. He has been taken prisoner 
often, and he will escape again if you do not kill him 
here, where his friends, and your enemies are buried.” 

“ Silence ! Pida is not foolish. Nor will he escape. 
He shall be watched so that flight is impossible, but he 
shall be treated as such a renowned warrior should be.” 

“ Confound it ! Treated like a renowned warrior ! 
Why don’t } r ou twine garlands around him, and hang 
orders on his breast ? ” 

“ Pida does not know what orders and garlands are,” 
said the young chief simply. “ But he knows that he 
will treat Old Shatterhand very differently than we 
would you, if you were our prisoner. No more words. 
Go back among my warriors. We will start at once for 
Salt Fork, and take our prisoner to Tangua, the chief.” 


CHAPTER XVII. 


IN THE HANDS OF THE K10WAS. 

I was taken to the Kiowa village, which looked pre- 
cisely as it did when I left it, with the case reversed, and 
Pida my prisoner, instead of I his. I was bound to a 
strong fir, the signification of w r hich I did not learn till 
later. This fir was called the death tree, because only 
those prisoners destined to death by torture were bound 
to it. 

Two armed braves were stationed before me at the 
right and left as guards, but I was kindly and respect- 
fully treated, and Tangua seemed rather to remember 
that I had spared him his son, and even his own life, 
rather than that I had crippled him. 

After I had been fastened to the tree, Pida came to 
see that my bonds were strong. They were drawn fear- 
fully tight, and the young chief loosened them, saying 
to the guards: “ You must watch him with extraor- 
dinary vigilance, but do not hurt him. He is a great 
chief among the white men, and has never given a red 
warrior unnecessary pain.” 

Santer used every art and means to get the paper he 
had seen me reading into his possession. Tangua would 
have consented to his having it, but Pida interfered, 
and prevented the command being given. I was forced, 
however, to relinquish it to the young chiefs keeping, 
which was the hardest pang I had to endure, and made 

313 


IN THE HANDS OF THE KIOWA S. 

me desperately anxious lest by foul means, since fair 
had failed, Santer would get hold of it. 

When Pida made his evening visit to me he said: 
“ Has the white warrior any wish ? ” 

“ Yes,” I replied, “ I want to make a request.” 

“ Tell me it; if I can I will gladly fulfil it.” 

“ I want to warn you of Santer.” 

“ Of him ? Beside Pida, the son of the chief Tangua, 
he is an insect.” 

“ True, but the insect must be guarded against if it 
will sting. I have heard he dwells beside you ? ” 

“ Yes; it is an empty tent ” 

“ Take care he does not come into yours. He means 
to.” 

“ I will throw him out.” 

“ What if you were not in your tent when he came ? ” 

“ My squaw would be there, and drive him away.” 

“ He is after the speaking paper you took from me.” 

“ He will not get it.” 

“ No; you will never give it to him, I know, but he 
might steal it.” 

“ Even if he should get into the tent he cannot find 
it, for it is hidden in my medicine charm, and it is safe.” 

“ I hope so. Would you let me see it once more ? ” 

“ You have already seen it, and read it.” 

“ Not all of it.” 

“ Then you shall see it all, but it is growing too dark 
now. Early in the morning when it is light I will bring 
it to you.” 

“ I thank you. And now one word more. Santer is 
not only after the speaking paper, but my weapons. 
They are famous, and he would like to have them. In 
whose hands are they now ? ” 


214 /AT THE HANDS OF THE K 10 WAS. 


“ In mine. The guns I have covered with two blan- 
kets, and put under my bed where he will not look for 
them. They belong to me now. I should like to be 
your successor in the glory of having a Henry rifle, 
and so Old Shatterhand can do me a favor.” 

“ I will, certainly, if I can.” 

“ I can shoot with your bear-killer, but not with the 
Henry rifle. Before you die would you show me how to 
load and use it ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ I thank you. You were not obliged to tell me 
this secret, and if you did not the rifle would be useless. 
In return I will see that when your torture begins you 
have all your heart desires.” 

He left me, not realizing what a hope this awoke in 
my heart. 

After Pida had gone the women of the village came 
over to see the white warrior of whom they had heard 
so much, though the men, and even the lads, were too 
proud to show curiosity in regard to me, an act of self- 
denial at which I wondered, knowing the nature of a 
boy, and feeling sure a red one must be very like a white 
one. Among the maidens was a young girl, standing a 
little apart from the others. She was not precisely 
pretty, but she was far from plain, and the steady, 
earnest, open gaze of her large eyes recalled bTscho- 
Tschi to me, though there was little resemblance be- 
tween her and the daughters of the Apaches. I bowed 
to her pleasantly; she blushed, and walked on, paused 
to look back at me a moment, and then disappeared in 
the door-way of one of the larger and finer tents. 

“Who was the young daughter of the Iviowas who 


nv THE HANTS OF THE KIOWAS . 

stood by herself and has just gone away ? ” I asked my 
guard. 

“ That was Kakho-Oto [“ Dark Hair ”], the daughter 
of Sus-Homasehe [“ One Feather ”], who, when he was 
still a boy, won the right to wear a feather in his hair. 
The squaw of our young chief is her sister.” 

In a short time Dark Hair came out of the tent ; 
she carried a flat clay dish, and walked straight over 
to the “ tree of death.” 

“ My father has allowed me to bring you something 
to eat; will you take it ? ” she* asked. 

“ Gladly,” I answered, “ only I *canT use my hands 
because they are fastened.” 

“ They need not be untied; I will serve you,” she 
said. 

She had brought' me roasted buffalo meat, cut into 
small pieces, anfl carried a knife with which she speared 
the bits, and put them into my mouth. Old Shatter- 
hand fed by a young Indian girl like a baby ! I wanted 
.to laugh, in spite of the gravity of my situation, and I 
thought my guards had difficulty in keeping sober, but 
my kind friend was not a self-conscious young white 
lady, but a* simple Indian girl, to whom the situation 
held nothing funny, and it would never do to smile. 
So I took my meat with due solemnity and gratitude, 
and made a hearty supper. 

Early in the d'awn, before it was light, Pida rode 
away at the head of a little band to hunt, and I learned 
that he would not return till noon. I sighed impa- 
tiently to think I should have to wait so many hours 
before I could read Winne'tou’s letter which Pida had 
promised to bring me. 


21 6 in THE HANDS OP THE HI 0 WAS. 


An hour passed; then I saw Santer nnder the trees. 
He led his saddled horse by the bridle, and carried 
his gun over his shoulders. He came directly over to 
me. 

“ I too am going on the chase, Mr. Shatterhand. I 
may meet Pida, who is so well disposed toward you, and 
distrusts me so much.” He waited for an answer, but 
I acted as though I neither saw nor heard ‘him. 

“ You have grown deaf ? ” 

Again no answer. 

“ I am awfully sorry, for your sake, and my own.” 
He put out his hand toward me with insulting affec- 
tionateness. 

“ Keep off, scoundrel,” I cried. 

“ Oh, you can speak, if you can’t hear. Pity, dreadful 
pity; I want to ask you something.” He looked me 
impudently in the face, and his own had a fiendish ex- 
pression of triumph. “ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” he laughed. 
“ What a picture ! The renowned Old Shatterhand at 
the death tree, and the scamp Santer a free man. But 
there’s something better than that to come, much better. 
Are you going to do with the gold what his spirit told 
you ? ” 

These words electrified me, for they were from Win- 
netou’s letter. 

“ Wretch ! Where did you learn that ? ” I demanded. 
“ You have the paper.” 

“ Yes; I have it,” he said with triumphant, mocking 
laughter. 

“ You have robbed Pida.” 

“ Robbed him ! Nonsense ! folly ! I have taken what 
belonged to me; is that stealing ? I have the paper, 
and the whole package.” 


IN THE HANDS OE THE K 10 WAS. 2 1 7 

“Hold him. Catch him; he has robbed Pida,” I 
shouted to the guards. 

“ Hold me ! ” he laughed, springing into the saddle. 
“ Not much ! ” 

“Don’t let him go. He mustn’t get away; he has 
robbed Pida — ” the words stuck in my throat; I could 
say no more, because I was tearing and pulling to get 
free. 

Santer made off in a gallop, and the guards only stared 
after him wdth uncomprehending eyes. Winnetou’s 
letter; my brother Winnetou’s last will was stolen, and 
the thief was riding away over the open plain, and no 
one made a motion to catch him ! I was beside myself, 
and pulled, pulled, pulled with all my might at the 
thongs that bound my hands to the tree. I did not 
stop to think they were unbreakable, and that if they 
were broken I could not move because my feet were 
tied; I did not feel the pain of their cutting into my 
flesh; I pulled and pulled, and called and called till I 
fell forward on the ground. They were broken ! 

“ Uff, uff; he is free ! ” cried the guards. 

“ Let me go, let me go; I won’t escape. I will only 
catch Santer. He has robbed your young chief.” 

My cries had, of course, aroused the whole village. 
Everybody hastened to hold me, which was easily done, 
for my feet were still bound, and soon my hands were 
again tied to the tree. 

“ Uff, uff, uff ! ” they cried. “ Broke loose — no buf- 
falo could have done it. Who could have believed it ? ” 
Such were the exclamations on all sides, and the In- 
dians seemed rather to admire me than be displeased at 
the feat. 

“Don’t stand staring at me,” I shrieked. “ Didn’t 


218 


IN THE HANDS OE THE K 10 WAS. 


you understand what I said ? Santer has robbed Pida. 
Get your horses, quick, and bring him back.” No one 
moved. I was frantic, almost insane with rage, but I 
could do nothing, absolutely nothing, and my last hope 
failed when the Indians reported that Tangua had for- 
bidden them to follow Santer because Pida could not 
read the “ speaking paper,” and it was of no use to him. 
So seeing that I was powerless, I forced myself to an 
outward calm, though I was well-nigh mad to think 
that Winnetou’s long, loving letter, written with such in- 
finite pains, and giving his orders as to the hidden 
treasure, was in the hands of his father’s murderer. 

Perhaps three hours passed when I heard a woman’s 
voice call loudly. I had seen without noting that 
Dark Hair had been going in and out of her tent, 
and now she and her father came running to where I 
stood, calling loudly. “ Old Shatterhand knows every- 
thing; is he also a doctor ? ” 

“ Yes,” I replied, hoping to be untied and taken to 
some sick person. 

“ Can you cure the sick ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ But not raise the dead ? ” 

“ Is there any one dead ? ” 

“ Yes; thS squaw of the young chief Pida. The 
medicine-man says she is dead, killed by Santer, who 
stole the speaking paper.’ Will Old Shatterhand 
come to her, and give her back her life ? ” 

“ Take me to her.” 

I was unfastened from the tree, and with long thongs 
on my hands and feet, was led to Pida’s tent, the way 
to which I was very glad to learn, for my weapons w r ere 
there. I followed One Feather into the tent, and 


IN THE HANDS OF THE K 10 WAS. 219 

glanced hastily around. Yes; there they were, my re- 
volver, knife and saddle, and Pida had said the others 
were under the bed. 

“ Old Shatterhand may examine the dead, and see if 
he can make her alive again.” 

I knelt down, and examined her with my fastened 
hands. After a time I discovered that her blood still 
circulated, and I looked up at her father and sister who 
kept their eyes fastened on me with anxious expecta- 
tion. “ She is dead; no one can awaken her,” said the 
medicine-man. 

“ Old Shatterhand can,” I said. 

“ Can you ? Can you really ? ” asked One Feather 
quickly and gladly. 

“ Wake her, oh, wake her,” pleaded Dark Hair, 
laying her hands on my shoulder. 

“ Yes, I can, and I will,” I repeated. “ But if life 
is to he called back to her, I must be alone with the 
dead.” 

“ Uff ! Do you know what you ask ? Here are your 
weapons. If you get them, you are free. Promise me 
not to touch them.” 

It may be imagined what a struggle this cost me; if 
I had the knife I could cut my bonds. But no ! I 
would not take advantage of a woman’s helplessness 
for such an end. I saw some little knives that lay 
on a table, which had been used for some feminine 
work. 

“ I promise you,” I said at last. “ You can take them 
away with you to make sure.” 

“Ho; it is not necessary. What Old Shatterhand 
promises is sure. But that is not enough.” 

“ What more ? ” 


220 IN THE HANTS OF THE KIOWA S. 


“ Promise me not to escape, but to go back to the tree 
of death, and let yourself be tied.” 

“ I give you my word I will do so.” 

“ Then come away. Old Shatterhand is no liar like 
Santer; we can trust him.” 

As soon as they had gone I slipped one of the little 
knives up my sleeve, then I turned all my attention to 
the young squaw. I found her head badly swollen from a 
blow, and as I pressed it she breathed a sigh of pain, 
opened her eyes, and looked up at me, at first blankly, 
and then with more consciousness, and at last she whis- 
pered: “ Old Shatterhand.” 

“ You know me ? ” I asked. 

“ Yes.” 

“ Collect yourself; if you sink away again you will 
die. What has happened ? ” 

My warning that she would die had a good effect. 
She made an effort, and with my help sat up, laid her 
hands on her aching head, and said: “ I was alone. 
Santer came in and demanded the medicine. I would 
not give it to him, and he struck me; I knew no more.” 

“ Is the medicine gone too ? ” 

She looked around, uttered a feeble cry of horror, and 
said: "It is gone; he has taken it.” 

The loss of his medicine charm is irreparable to an 
Indian; Pida would have to ride after Santer, and get 
it back. 

“ Come,” I said, going to the door of the tent. “ The 
dead is alive.” 

The joy these words occasioned may be imagined. 
The Indians thought I had wrought a real miracle, 
and I did not contradict them. As One Feather led 
me back to the death tree he expressed his gratitude 


IN THE HANDS OF THE K 10 WAS. 


221 


according to his standards by saying: “ We will make 
you die in still greater agony than we had determined 
on. Never shall a man have suffered like you, and in 
the Happy Hunting Grounds you shall be the greatest 
of all the white warriors.” 

“ Thanks!” I thought, but said aloud: “Had you 
followed Santer as I begged you to — you would have had 
him now, instead of which he seems to have escaped.” 

“ AYe shall capture him; his trail will be very easy to 
find,” said One Feather confidently. 

Tangua had sent for Pida when he heard his medicine 
was lost, and after he had seen his father and wife on 
his return, he came to me. “ Old Shatterhand has 
awakened my squaw, whom I love, from death. I thank 
him,” he said. “ But my soul is sick, and cannot be 
cured till I have my medicine again.” 

“ Why didn’t you heed my warning ? ” 

“ Old Shatterhand is always right. Had our warriors 
at least obeyed him to-day the thief would he here 
now.” 

“ Pida will follow him ? ” 

“ Yes. Will you come with me ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Uff ! That is good, for then we shall surely catch 
him. I will cut you free, and give you your weapons.” 

“ Wait. I can go only as a free man.” 

“ Uff ! That is not possible.” 

“ Then I will not go; Old Shatterhand is not a blood- 
hound.” 

He shook his head regretfully. “ I would have taken 
you so gladly,” he said. “ I want to thank you for mak- 
ing my squaw alive, but if you will not go I cannot do 
so. You will wait here then till I come hack.” 


222 


IN THE HANDS OF THE K 10 WAS. 


He went away and when Dark Hair brought me my 
supper she said: “ Old Shatterhand did wrong not to 
ride with Pida. It is honorable to die in torture with- 
out a groan, but Dark Hair thinks it is better to live 
honorably. Old Shatterhand might have smoked the 
pipe of peace with Pida on this ride.” 

“ Don’t be anxious about me; Old Shatterhand 
knows what he will do.” 

She looked down thoughtfully, glanced sideways at 
the guards, and made an impatient gesture with her 
hand. I understood; she wanted to speak of flight, but 
could not. As she raised her eyes again I said: “ Old 
Shatterhand reads his young sister’s thoughts. They 
shall be fulfilled.” 

“ When ? ” 

“ Soon.” 

She was quick to understand, and said at once: “ Old 
Shatterhand has not eaten enough. Will he have any- 
thing else ? I will bring it to him.” 

She did not mean food, as I knew, and I said: “ I 
thank my good sister; I have all I need. How is the 
chief’s squaw ? ” 

“ The pain is leaving her head; the water helps it.” 

“ She needs a nurse. Who is with her ? ” 

(( j » 

“ And will be all night ? ” 

She understood. Her voice quivered as she replied: 
“ I shall be there till morning.” 

“ Till morning ? Then we shall see each other 
again.” 

“ Yes; we shall see each other again.” She left me, 
and the double meaning of our words had escaped the 
guards. 


IN THE HANDS OF THE KIOWAS. 223 


Night fell, and the time was come. They had allowed 
me a blanket, and let me lie down, and as they untied 
me, and re-tied me in the new position, I slipped the 
little knife down my sleeve, and nearly severed the 
thongs. When all was qniet I pulled slowly, softly; 
the thongs broke; my hands were free. Then I cut the 
thongs around my ankles — the task was accomplished ! 
The guards had fallen asleep, secure of me, because my 
wrists were too badly cut for me to break my bonds 
again. I gave each a quick blow to stupefy them, rose, 
and crept from tree to tree, from tent to tent till 1 
reached Pida’s. 

“Dark Hair,” I whispered. 

“ Old Shatterhand,” she answered. 

“ Are my weapons here ? ” 

“ In the tent; my sister was so ill I had her taken to 
my father’s tent.” 

Oh, the sharpness of a girl’s wit ! She waited for me 
till I came out with all my weapons. “ How good you 
are to me, and how much I thank you,” I whispered. 

“ Old Shatterhand is good to every one,” she returned. 
“ Will he come back perhaps ? ” 

“ It may be. If I do I will bring Pida with me as my 
friend and brother. Give me your hand that I may 
thank you.” 

She held it out, saying: “ May your flight be success- 
ful. I must go; my sister will be anxious about me.” 

Before I could prevent her she had raised my hand 
to her lips, and slipped away. I stood still to listen to 
her footsteps; the kind, good girl ! I crept away, found 
Swallow, saddled him, and led him out of the village 
till I thought it safe to mount. Then I threw myself 
in the saddle, and rode away like the wind. I was free ! 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


RETRIBUTION. 

There was not the slightest doubt in my mind that 
Santer wonld go straight to Rio Pecos, for in turning 
the leaves of Winnetou’s letter I had seen that he had 
used Apache words in describing the hiding-place of 
the gold, which Santer could not understand, and for 
the explanation of which he would have to seek an 
Apache. He would run a risk in going, but such a 
man as Santer would risk anything for gold, and he had 
the leather case of the letter on which Winnetou’s totem 
was cut, and which might obtain for his lying tongue 
the credence necessary to get the information he de- 
sired. So when I found myself a free man on the 
j:>rairie once more, I rode through the darkness directly 
to Rio Pecos, although I could not see the trail of either 
Santer, or the Kiowas pursuing him. In the morning I 
came upon the trail of eleven horses; Pida and his ten 
braves who were on SantePs track, and were following 
him to Rio Pecos, although the Apaches were their 
deadly enemies, for an Indian must dare anything, and 
do anything to recover his medicine charm if it is lost, 
since without it he is disgraced, and his life valueless. 
It was not long before I saw the little band of Kiowas 
ahead of me; they had encamped during the night to 
wait for daylight to see SantePs trail. I spurred my 
horse to overtake them, and when Pida recognized me 

224 


RETRIBUTION . 


225 


he uttered a cry of surprise, and rode faster. I called to 
him: “ Pida may wait. I will protect him against the 
Apaches.” 

Although he had shown fear, knowing that I was a 
chief of the Apaches, and had been his prisoner, yet he 
seemed to trust me, for he reined up, and called to his 
braves to stop. “ Old Shatterhand ! Old Shatterhand 
is free ! Who freed you ? ” 

“ No one but myself,” I answered. 

“ Uff, uff ! That was impossible.” 

“ Not for me. I knew I should he free, and that was 
why I would not ride with you. You need not fear me; 
I am your friend, and will see that nothing happens to 
you among the Apaches.” 

“Uff! Will you truly ? ” 

“ I give you my word.” 

“ What Old Shatterhand says I believe.” 

“ You may trust me. But I can only protect you if 
you are my brother. Dismount; we will smoke the pipe 
of peace together.” 

We dismounted, smoked the calumet, and then rode 
on to Bio Pecos. Nothing had changed. To the right 
was the grave where we had laid Winnetou’s white 
teacher, Kleki-Petrah, with the cross we -had placed 
over it still unharmed. To the left was the river where 
I had swam for my life; all was just the same in the 
pueblo where I had spent that peaceful winter, and had 
learned to know Winnetou and his people, hut the three 
friends who had loved me were no longer there to wel- 
come me. All the dwellers in the pueblo came with 
glad cries to make good this lack as far as they could 
do so. 

“ Old Shatterhand comes ! Old Shatterhand ! Hurry, 


226 


RETRIBUTION. 


braves, to receive him,” they shouted, and a hundred 
hands stretched out to give me welcome, a sad welcome, 
for I had come without Winnetou, who would never see 
this beloved spot again. I found Sam Hawkins waiting 
me there, much changed by the loss of his comrades, but 
delighted to see me. 

u I have brought the Kiowas,” I said at once, for I 
was anxious to make sure they were safe. “ Pida is my 
friend; he has been kind to me while I was his prisoner. 
We have smoked the pipe of peace together, and I ask 
the Apaches to receive him for my sake.” 

“ He shall be our guest as long as he wishes, but after 
he goes away he shall be our enemy again. How,” said 
Til-Lata, the new chief of the tribe. 

“ Good ! That is understood. How the Apaches will 
wish to hear of Winnetou, and how he died. We must 
wait for that, for Santer, the murderer of Intschu- 
Tschuna and Hscho-Tschi has escaped, and rode yes- 
terday to Rio Pecos; we must capture him.” 

“ The murderer ! A pale-face was here yesterday, 
and talked with Inta.” 

“ It was he,” I cried. “ Take me to Inta.” 

Inta was one of the oldest men of the tribe. I did 
not know how Santer had happened to select him for 
his object, but he could not have made a better selec- 
tion, for he had watched over the growth of Intschu- 
Tschuna and the young chief, and had loved them, and 
would have done anything for any one who had shown 
him Winnetou’s totem. 

The old man leaped for joy when he saw me, and 
began making me a long speech, which I cut short. 
“ Leave that for another time,” I said. “ Was there a 
pale-face here yesterday ? ” 


RETRIBUTION. 


227 


“ Yes” 

" And has he gone ? ” 

" Yes.” 

".What did he want ? ” 

" He showed me Winnetou's totem on leather, and his 
medicine. He said Winnetou had sent him to learn the 
meaning of certain Apache words, which he did not 
want him to know till he had come here.” 

" What were they ? ” 

" Deklil-to, the Dark Water, and Schisch-tu, the 
Black Lake, and I described to him these waters, which 
are in the depths of Hugget-tsil.” 

" Did you describe the way- to get there ? ” 

"Yes; it quickened my soul to talk of these places 
where I had been with Intschu-Tschuna and Winnetou, 
the chiefs of the Apaches, who have gone to the Happy 
Hunting Grounds. I shall soon see them again.” 

The old man was not to blame; he had only obeyed 
his chiefs totem. 

" Did the man eat here ? ” 

" Yes, but not much; he had no time. He asked 
for cotton to make a fuse.” 

" Oh ! Did he get it ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

" What was the fuse for ? ” 

" He did not say. And we gave him a great deal of 
powder.” 

" To shoot ? ” 

"Ho; to blow up something.” 

" And have you the totem ? ” 

"Ho; he took it, hut he left Winnetou’s medicine.” 

The old man brought out as he spoke Pida’s medi- 
cine. The young Indian, who was standing beside me, 


228 


RETRIBUTION. 


uttered a cry of joy. " This medicine belongs to the 
young Kiowa chief. It was stolen from him; Wirine- 
tou never saw it in his life.” 

" Then I will return it to Pida,” said the old man, 
"if Old Shatterhand is quite sure that is true. Was 
this man a thief ? ” 

"Worse than a thief; he was the murderer of Int- 
schu-Tschuna and Nscho-Tschi.” 

We left poor old Inta standing dumb with amazement 
and horror. Til-Lata spoke for the first time after we 
had left Inta’s tent. "We will not wait; we will ride 
at once. Perhaps we can catch him before he reaches 
the Dark Water.” 

Pida was happy, for he had recovered his medicine, 
and had fully succeeded in the object of his ride. I 
wondered if we could say as much later. We parted 
with cordial friendship; Pida to return to the Salt Fork 
to his village, I to pursue the wretch who was still tri- 
umphing, and though I never again saw the young 
Kiowa, I remember him with liking and respect, and 
trust life has been kind to him, for he had the instincts 
of a noble man. 

Til-Lata had brought with him only twelve braves, 
and Sam Hawkins had come with me. 

It was evening when we reached Nugget Mountain. 
We ascended it by the first light of the dawn, passed 
through the ravine which I had rushed through on my 
way to rescue Winnetou on the day of the murder, and 
came into the clearing where it had been committed. 
Here we left the Apaches, and only Til-Lata, Sam and 
I went on. We turned into a narrow fissure, just big 
enough for one person to squeeze through, walked some 
distance, and came out on the borders of a great lake. 


RETRIBUTION. 


229 


the presence of which one conld not have suspected on 
the other side. It was fed by a hot spring, and its banks 
w T ere dry and barren of all vegetation. Straight up 
from this rose a bleak peak, rocky and gloomy, sur- 
mounted by a crag. As we paused on coming on this 
scene, a shot rattled past me, and a voice from above 
cried: “ Dog, you’re free again ! I thought I -had only 
the Kiowas after me.” 

We looked up, and saw Santer above on the edge of 
the cliff. 

“Do you want your Apache’s letter, and to carry off 
the treasure ? ” he laughed. “ You come too late. I 
have been there already, and the fuse is lighted. I see 
you don’t know the way up; why didn’t you read the 
letter ? I’ll take the gold, and you can’t stop me. This 
time I am victor.” 

What was to be done ? It was true that we did not 
know the way, for the secret was known only to the 
chief of the tribe, and Til-Lata had not yet learned it. 
There was nothing for me to do but shoot, and I took 
my Henry rifle from my shoulder. 

“ Oh, you’ll shoot, will you ? ” cried Santer. “ Then 
I’ll take a better position.” He disappeared, and came 
out again higher up, and still higher, till he stood on 
the very apex of the crag. He held something white 
in his hand. “ See here,” he shouted. “ Here’s your 
letter. I don’t want it any more, for I know the direc- 
tions by heart. I’ll give it to the winds and the lake. 
You shall never have it.” He tore the leaves into fine 
pieces, and threw them up in the air, and they slowly 
fluttered about, drifted down slowly, slowly into the 
lake. The precious letter ! The last utterance of my 
dear Winnetou’s faithful heart ! I felt suffocated ! 


230 


RETRIBUTION-. 


“ You beast, listen to me a moment ! ” I cried. 

“ Fll listen with pleasure.” 

“ Intschu-Tschuna greets you.” 

“ Thanks ! ” 

“And Nsc'ho-Tschi greets you also.” 

“ Thank you very much indeed.” 

“ And in the name of Winnetou I send you this bul- 
let; you need not thank me.” I lifted my bear-killer; 
it was surer, and I must not fail. But what was this ? 
Was my arm shaking ? Was Santer rocking ? Was 
the crag swaying ? 

I could not aim, and lowered the gun to look with 
both eyes. Lord of heaven ! The crag swayed to and 
fro; there was a dull, heavy explosion, smoke arose, and, 
as if cast down by a giant hand, the crag, with Santer 
on it, toppled over, and crashed down, down, down into 
the boiling lake. We saw him throw up his arms, and 
shriek for help; the waters closed over him, and he lay 
under the mass of rock in the unfathomed depths of the 
Dark Water. 

Sam gasped, his face livid with terror. “ A judgment 
of heaven ! He has died by his own villainy.” 

Til-Lata, who had been a little behind us, crept up 
to the edge of the lake, the bronze of his face pale, his 
knees trembling, and looked down into the waters which 
were seething and boiling, and said: “The wicked 
spirit has drawn him down into the boiling water, and 
will never give him back till the end of all things. He 
is accursed.” 

I could not speak; there were no words for such a 
scene. What an end for Santer ! At the last moment 
I had been spared the necessity of shooting him; he had 
condemned himself, or rather he had drawn down the 


RETRIBUTION. 


231 


condemnation of the Most High, and had been his own 
executioner, for his hand had lighted the fuse. 

I was weak and faint; I closed my eyes, and still saw 
the swaying crag, and heard Santer’s scream. As soon 
as I was able I crawled up, and searched long and care- 
fully for the scrape of Winnetou’s letter. I could find 
but a few tiny pieces, with a disconnected w.ord on 
each. That was all that was left me of Winnetou’s long 
letter, but those scraps I -have treasured carefully. We 
descended the mountain, found our horses, and 
mounted in silence. We were going back to Rio Pecos 
for a time, and then Sam and I would go East together, 
and my life among the Indians would be over. 

The long rays of the setting sun rested on Nugget 
Mountain as we looked back at it from the prairie. Its 
wooded side was bathed in its golden splendor, the only 
gold that rested now in the secret recesses of its ravines. 
At last Intsehu-Tschuna and Nscho-Tschi were 
avenged, and Winnetou’s work was done. The Dark 
Water had buried in its boiling depths the murderer, 
and the gold for which he schemed, and sinned, and 
died. There was no longer, a treasure of Nugget Moun- 
tain. 


PRINTED BY BENZIGER BROTHERS, NEW YORK. 














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